


Break Down and Build Up

by crushing83



Series: Teen Wolf in Another Reality [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison finds out about her family, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad friend Scott McCall, Canon-Typical Violence, Chris Argent investigates, Damaged Derek, Damaged Derek Hale, Danny is a hacker, Demisexual Stiles Stilinski, Derek trying to teach Stiles how to be a werewolf, Discussion of Hale history, Erica and Boyd and Danny are like a Scooby Gang, Everybody tries, Family Feels, First Aid, Gen, I don't want to use archive warnings, I may be kinder to Scott in the future but today is not that day, Jackson is a jerk, Jackson is insecure and selfish, Jackson is scared, Kate Argent kidnaps, Lydia tries to solve mysteries, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Multiple Pov, Not Beta Read, POV Multiple, Pack Dynamics, Protective Derek, Protective Derek Hale, Protective Sheriff Stilinski, Protective Stiles, Protective Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall is a Bad Friend, Scott is confused, Season 01 AU, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles Stilinski Gets Bitten Instead of Scott McCall, Stiles and Derek are pack, Stiles is kidnapped, Stiles learning how to be a werewolf, The Plot Thickens, Vague descriptions of torture, Warning: Kate Argent, ace spectrum Stiles Stilinski, and everything the fanon sometimes implies, asexual spectrum Stiles Stilinski, because I'm really vague and the situations barely happen in the story, but please be careful, canon-typical abuse, fake hacking, loose crossover with Bitten series, loose crossover with Otherworld series, maybe erroneous first aid, pack bonds, playing fast and loose with the show's mythology, season 01 finale, vague descriptions of unpleasant situations, werewolf investigations, werewolf lessons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22185004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushing83/pseuds/crushing83
Summary: John and Derek do their best to rescue Stiles; they have to count on allies of the honest and dubious varieties. Allison and Scott struggle with the reveal of the supernatural, while others embrace and accept it. Peter does what Peter does best---he causes trouble for everyone."There are two monsters in Beacon Hills right now," John continued, glaring into Chris' seemingly cool, detached gaze and refusing to back down from the challenge the hunter presented. "One might be a werewolf seeking revenge for his murdered family, but the other is your sister---and she has my son."
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Teen Wolf in Another Reality [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1274654
Comments: 61
Kudos: 286
Collections: Fave Teen Wolf, Teen Wolf





	Break Down and Build Up

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for waiting! I'm sorry it took me so long to get my butt in gear to finish this next installment. Writer's block, reading, and other ideas (a twin AU (and sort of a mashup with characters from 17th Precinct, Shadowhunters, and The Magicians) and a crossover with Shadowhunters---because I finished the MI books and I'm on the Clockwork Angel now) have really been cramping my Stileswolf progress.  
>   
> Also, I used an idea that LooselybasedonUk supplied, in comments on a previous story, as a starting point, so they should get credit for giving my brain a major dose of inspiration. Thank you for commenting and helping me out of that sticky spot.  
>   
> I hope you all enjoy the story <3

When Allison stepped outside, the dopey, infatuated expression on Scott's face almost allowed her to forget about the past few days. She smiled and tried her best to look pleased; her father was watching and she wanted to keep the fact that she was upset from him. It was so hard to keep her smile in place and to keep it seeming authentic instead of forced. She knew if anyone would notice a change in her mood, it would be him---if he hadn't already. He was intuitive and tuned into her behaviour in a way her mother couldn't or didn't achieve. 

(She also wondered if their different skill sets made them an effective hunting team, and then she gave herself a shake and focused on the present moment.)

She only had to act normal for a few minutes---and then for a couple hours---to hide the fact that she knew what her family _really_ considered to be their collective vocation.

"You look very handsome," Allison said as she reached up and straightened Scott's tie. 

Scott grinned. "And you look… wow." 

"That better be a respectful 'wow,' Scott," Chris said from behind Allison. 

Allison snorted when Scott's eyes widened and he nodded, backpedaling as much as he could before promising to treat Allison like a princess. 

"Be home at eleven---and no detours," Chris stipulated. "Straight to the dance and straight home." 

"Yes, sir," Scott vowed. 

Scott helped her get into the car before he bounded around the front of the vehicle and hopped into the driver's seat. He took her hand and squeezed it. 

"You okay?" he asked. 

"I'll act normal," Allison muttered. 

"Ally, that's not what I meant…" 

She looked at the front of her house and saw her father standing there, still watching them. She didn't want to fight with Scott and she didn't want Chris to see them fight. She wanted to get through the night so she could go back to figuring out how she fit into the more honest view of her family and her family's activities. She wanted to figure out how she felt about Stiles and the idea of werewolves. 

She needed a moment of peace in the turmoil of her thoughts. 

"Not here, not now," she said. She smiled what she was sure was the fakest smile ever and set aside her feelings. "Let's just go to the dance, all right?" 

Scott nodded did as she requested. They didn't say much to each other, but she did reach out and take back Scott's hand when she felt like she could. 

She didn't hate him. She didn't stop caring about him. He was a good guy; he tried to make sure she was safe and happy. His attitude about Stiles was surprising, because Scott was so laidback about many things, but it was also unsurprising at the same time. Stiles was his best friend and they'd been there for each other through _a lot,_ according to Scott's stories. Realising Stiles had lied about something so monumental had to have been a shock. The anger and fear were understandable. Once those initial reactions faded, Allison was sure he would realise Stiles was still _Stiles_. They'd be able to talk about the truth Kate revealed; they'd be able to figure out how they were going to handle that reveal and their actions going forward.

As Scott parked his mother's car in the school lot, Allison tried to push thoughts of Stiles, werewolves, and hunters out of her mind. They had to act normal, so the Sheriff had no reason to suspect they knew about Kate's actions---and so her parents had no reason to suspect they knew the truth, too. 

"You ready?" Scott asked. 

Allison exhaled slowly. "Not gonna get any readier," she replied. 

"We just have to dance a bit… and then, maybe we can find a classroom and talk about everything," he suggested. "Like… everything. Try to figure out what we're gonna do, y'know?" 

"Together?"

He smiled and nodded. "Together," he agreed.

#####

"Don't you guys have a dance to go to?" Derek asked.

Erica, Danny, and Boyd all gave him the same stern look. Derek would have snorted if he weren't itching to get out of the house and look for Stiles. They made it very clear they were staying there until Stiles was safe. 

They knew Kate had him. They knew he was being held in a basement of some kind. Boyd tracked a second vehicle into the Preserve (before he lost it due to a lack of cameras along the roads). They had enough of a starting point. 

He didn't need them to stay and keep searching for more information. Danny had been listening to the feed until Kate had started tormenting Stiles with much more enthusiasm; he'd turned off his laptop's speakers when Derek all-but-begged him to stop. John shouldn't have to hear his son crying like that and Derek didn't know how much of it he could take before his fangs and claws exposed his secret to Stiles' friends. 

"Don't be dumb," Danny said, earlier, when they'd been alone. "We're safe here if Peter shows up. Hunters won't come to the Sheriff's house looking for the rest of the pack. And if you need to leave, I can move the mountain ash---and I can safely seal us back inside the barrier."

Derek couldn't deny that Danny made a few good points. But, despite those truths, Derek wanted them out of the house so he could avoid feeling responsible or beholden to the teenagers who came to support Stiles. He promised John he'd stay there inside the mountain ash barriers, as if he had a choice after Peter's actions; in return, John promised they'd go out into the Preserve together after he got back from meeting with Deputy Graeme. It was the best plan on which they could compromise. While Derek worried about John's safety in the woods, he didn't want to face Kate or any other hunters without support or assistance of some sort; John had made it clear he couldn't let Derek run off on his own without backup, even if facing off against hunters could put him in danger. They would do their best and try to rescue Stiles---together. 

So, he had to wait there, with Stiles' friends, and he wasn't sure he wanted an audience while he tried to avoid losing his mind. 

They were all sitting in the living room. Derek couldn't stay there; he couldn't _sit_ and pretend to be calm. He especially couldn't sit there and pretend when he had an audience of curious and bright teenagers. Danny wasn't a concern; he knew about Stiles and the Hales. But, Erica and Boyd had already seen and heard enough. 

Against his better judgement, Derek went back to the kitchen and turned on the speakers to Danny's laptop. He couldn't see anything---the phone cameras were still facing the table and the ceiling---but he could hear Stiles' laboured breathing and Kate's predictable dialogue. 

"Howl, Stiles," Derek whispered. "Howl and I can find you." 

The hint, if that was what it had been, hadn't been clear enough for anyone to understand. Kate wouldn't use the Hales' former home. Derek couldn't remember a place in the house that looked like what he'd seen of where Stiles was held. All they could assume was that they were near Derek's childhood home, still in the woods. Until Stiles howled, Derek couldn't pinpoint his location any closer than that.

He understood the possible reasons why Stiles wouldn't howl. Firstly, Derek didn't know if Stiles knew how to make the sound; he'd heard Peter howl and knew it could be used to pinpoint location, but he'd never tried to make the sound himself. Secondly, Derek suspected he didn't want to do so in front of Kate because then she would know his pack was coming for him. And, thirdly, Derek knew Stiles would have no way of knowing who would answer the call---Derek or Peter---and, while he might not care about Peter facing off against Kate and the other hunters, Stiles would not want to lead Derek into Kate's trap. 

"Damn it, Stiles…" 

"I thought you'd heard enough of that," Danny said as he walked into the kitchen.

"I can't do anything to help him. Least I can do is…" 

"Suffer with him?" Danny supplied. 

Derek shrugged. 

"He wouldn't want you to hear this," Danny said. 

Derek glared at him. "How do you know?"

"Because I know enough about him to know he hates when people suffer because of him," Danny said. "We're not super close, but I know when his mom was sick, she blamed him for everything in her less lucid moments. He never left her side unless someone came to take him home… he stayed with her even when she cursed him out. 

"And when she died, his dad… did not grieve well," Danny continued. "He shouldered that blame, too." 

Because he couldn't imagine Stiles telling Danny all of that, Derek asked, "How do you know?" 

Danny shrugged. "We had the same hiding place at school. I was struggling with being gay, and Stiles was… struggling with stuff, too," he replied. "Scott tried to help when he could, but Stiles had panic attacks a lot, and sometimes he just wanted to hide because of that. He didn't like burdening people, even as a kid." 

Derek nodded. That lined up with what John and Stiles mentioned about that time in their lives. 

"I like him," Danny said. "He's a bit of a spaz, but he's kind and loyal." 

Derek nodded again. 

"He adapted to the change okay?" 

"Better than I assumed he would," Derek admitted. "He's got great control." 

Danny smiled. "Never would have guessed," he said. "When I figured out what happened, I kept a watch---from a distance, but I had to, y'know? Just in case. At lacrosse mostly. But he never screwed up." 

"He's got great control," Derek repeated. 

"That might change after this," Danny said. 

Derek sighed as he heard Stiles rattling in his chains. He knew that; he knew Stiles would be irreparably changed by the events of his capture. He couldn't think about that fact. His focus had to be on getting Stiles out of Kate's clutches before contemplating anything else.

Derek scowled as he heard Kate speak over he speaker. 

_"I'm going to make sure Derek finds your body first,"_ she purred. _"Oh, I know, the code… the code. But, cutie pie, you're a freaking werewolf and I'm the big bad hunter. He's gonna find your body and he's going to know he failed his pack again---"_

It was too much. Derek howled, his fangs and claws descending before he could control the impulse. He howled out the grief of losing his family, and he howled out his fear of losing Stiles in the very way Kate was describing. 

When he finished, his chest heaving for much-needed breath, Danny reached over and turned down the volume on his speakers so Kate and Stiles could no longer be heard. 

"Whoa." 

Derek lifted his head and saw Erica and Boyd standing in the doorway. 

"Well, wolf's out of the bag now," Danny muttered. He cleared his throat and turned to face them. "Don't freak out, guys. Yes, werewolves are real. Lots of things are real. Derek is a werewolf, Stiles is a werewolf, and actual werewolf hunters have Stiles. Any questions?"

Boyd spoke first. "This actually explains a lot," he said. 

Erica squinted at Derek. "Where do your eyebrows go?" she asked.

Danny chuckled. "No one knows." 

Derek rolled his eyes as he forced his features back into their human forms. Erica breathed out a quick "cool," and Boyd's eyebrows jumped up his forehead in what appeared to be silent surprise. 

Neither of them smelled like fear or anger. It wasn't what Derek expected. 

"I won't hurt you," he said. "Stiles wouldn't, either." 

"I know," Erica responded, quickly and without hesitation. 

Boyd nodded. "He risked his life for us at the school that night." 

"So, the black dust is like… werewolf proofing?" Erica asked. "And do you go wild on the full moon? What about silver bullets? Or wolfsbane? And seriously, I want to know about the eyebrows. Can you bite people and turn them? Do you live in packs? Is that why you live here with Stiles and his dad? Oh! And what about that myth about drinking from a puddle---" 

"That one isn't true, as far as I know," Derek said. 

"What about the rest of her questions?" Boyd asked. 

After a sigh, Derek launched into an explanation of everything he thought they needed to know. Werewolves were stronger than humans and had more perceptive senses. They could hear and smell things that humans couldn't even realise where happening. They rarely got sick; the change gave them accelerated healing abilities. Because of those strengths, werewolves could be dangerous, and not all of them believed in living peacefully with humans. There were born wolves and bitten wolves; he explained how a lot of packs, like his former pack, were family groups. The one who bit Stiles---the one with the alpha power, which meant he could bite and turn people---was one of the dangerous ones. They should not go looking for him because he'd be more likely to kill them than anything else. 

Then, he moved onto the full moon, and tried to explain that they became heightened---they didn't lose themselves, but they were more wolf than human at that point in the lunar cycle and control could be more difficult. That was why they---a pack---tended to gather on the full moon, so they could protect each other and so they could celebrate their gifts together. 

When he talked about their weaknesses, he talked about wolfsbane and mountain ash first, expressing that they could be dangerous even if touched, and then he moved onto the subject of hunters. Silver bullets didn't kill werewolves, but hunters whose name meant "silver" did, and that was how the myth started. He made sure to point out that there were other groups of hunters, too, and they all claimed to follow rules, but, as Kate Argent was demonstrating, they rarely did. 

As he finished talking, Danny put a glass of water down on the table in front of him. He grabbed it and drank it down in three gulps. 

"Wow. Werewolves are real," Erica breathed. 

"How does a pack work?" Boyd asked. "You guys aren't with this evil alpha guy, right? Because of the mountain ash around the house---it's to keep him out, I'm guessing. So… are you and Stiles, are one of you another alpha, or…?" 

Derek held the glass out to Danny, who huffed and grabbed it so he could refill it. 

He had a feeling he was going to spend the rest of his time waiting for John telling Erica and Boyd every single thing about being a werewolf.

#####

Lydia watched as Jackson took another discrete sip from his flask; she rolled her eyes and sighed.

"What?" he asked. 

"If you just wanted to brood and get drunk, why did you bother coming tonight?" she asked. "You could've done that at home." 

"Right. Like you would've let me stay home." 

She sighed again. "Well, it might be preferable to this," she said. "Is this about Danny? You two had a fight, and I know he bailed tonight, but---"

"He's not here?" Jackson asked. 

After shaking her head, she said, "Billy said he called and cancelled on him. Last minute. Said something about going to help search for Stiles." 

Jackson flinched. Lydia had been waiting for it. Truthfully, Billy hadn't told her that much. Danny's  
mother had told her when they ran into each other at the manicurist that afternoon. Jackson didn't need to know those details; they only muddied the narrative Lydia needed to tell in order to gauge Jackson's response. 

"What? Don't think that's a good use of his time?" 

"I am so sick of everyone worrying about Stilinski!" Jackson hissed. "He's going to be fine, but everyone is oh-so-frigging-worried about him, it's nuts!" 

"Jackson… he went missing from the scene of an accident." 

"Well, if you're so worried about him, why don't you date him?!" Jackson demanded. 

Lydia tilted her head. "Because I love you," she said. 

"Yeah? Doesn't seem like it!" Jackson exclaimed. "'Oh, poor Stilinski, he needs to be saved'---even though he could save himself if he wasn't so useless!" 

"Jackson… why are you so---" 

"Stop! For the last time: I don't know where he is or who has him!" Jackson interrupted. "Leave! Me! Alone!" 

Her insides curled into a tight knot as Jackson shoved her and marched away, dancing couples moving out of his way as he stormed out of the gym. 

Lydia was seething. _No one_ manhandled Lydia Martin! 

She was also terrified she pushed too far and too hard. She and Jackson worked; they cared about getting out of Beacon Hills more than anything else, and together they knew they could double their chances. It didn't matter if they were _in lurrrve_ or not; they were both driven, beautiful people, they cared deeply about each other, and they had similar goals. For him to forget to care about appearances, something was _really_ bothering him. It might've had to do with Stiles, but it also had to do with Jackson. She was just given more information to a puzzle that kept seeming to grow in size the longer she tried to investigate and solve it. 

A warm hand closed around her forearm. 

"Lydia?"

She turned and saw Allison and Scott. She forced herself to smile. 

"He's been in a bad mood for weeks now, like a grumpy, ferocious bear," she said. "We shouldn't have come tonight, but I thought it would cheer Jackson up. Clearly---and I'll only ever say this _once_ , so savour it---I was wrong." 

"Do you want me to go after him?" Scott asked. 

She shook her head. "No, thank you, Scott," she replied. "I'm going to go powder my nose, and then I'm going to go find him and give him a piece of my mind right back." 

Allison nodded. "All right. Just… call me if you need me, okay? Even if you just want to get out of here and go get ice cream." 

"I'll totally play chauffeur," Scott offered. 

Lydia smiled a bit more and straightened her shoulders. Without hesitation, she turned on her heel and marched after Jackson.

She would get to the bottom of Jackson's foul mood and figure out what it had to do with Stiles' disappearance. She was a genius. She could totally crack two mysteries and fix her relationship in one night, easy as pie.

#####

They'd been ready to sneak off and have that conversation, but Allison wanted to check in with Lydia before she disappeared. Scott lingered by the snacks, looking around and making small talk with some of his teammates, passing the time without complaint.

Truthfully, he wasn't sure what he was going to say when he and Allison talked about werewolves, Stiles, and Allison's hunter family, so he was glad for the postponement. On the one hand, he was furious with Stiles; on the other hand, he was scared of what Stiles could do to him. He believed that werewolves were monsters---they were rarely portrayed in movies as kindhearted souls, right?---and that the Argents protected people. But, as mad as he was at Stiles, he didn't want Kate or Chris to _kill_ Stiles. 

His thoughts had been even further muddled after talking with his mom and his boss. Everyone seemed so focused on helping Stiles, but Scott doubted they'd feel that way if they knew Stiles was a werewolf. Still, they made points and arguments that chipped away at Scott's belief that monsters needed to be killed. 

If he could save Stiles, and then help and keep him _human_ , the hunters wouldn't have any reason to go after him again. 

That made sense, but… 

How could he be strong enough to make a werewolf act (only) human? 

Allison's hand slipped into his before he realised she'd returned to him. She squeezed his fingers. 

"I can't find her," she said. "Jackson's car is still in the parking lot. But---" 

"Maybe they're making up in a classroom?" Scott suggested. 

She frowned. "I… maybe… but…" 

Scott threaded his fingers through hers. "I'll go check the locker rooms and the lacrosse field," he suggested. "Why don't you do another sweep of the bathrooms? We'll meet outside the guidance office and regroup from there." 

As a smile curved her lips. Allison relaxed against him. She nodded. "Yeah, okay," she agreed. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Thanks. I know we have plans, but---" 

"I get it," he interrupted. "We should make sure she's okay first. She's your friend." 

Allison's smile grew in size and intensity, making Scott's insides flip-flop and his heart swell. For a moment, it felt like they were back to normal and on the same page. Scott longed for the day when they were normal again. It seemed like _forever_ had passed since they found out that werewolves were real; Scott couldn't wait until they figured out what they were going to do with that information. He wanted to fix things between them instead of lingering in the weird, uncomfortable limbo into which they'd entered when Kate showed them the truth. 

After another kiss, Allison left his side. He watched her leave, admiring the way her shiny grey dress clung to her body, and then he gave his head a little shake and headed off towards the locker rooms. 

It barely took fifteen minutes for Scott to determine that Lydia wasn't in the locker room---alone or with Jackson. To keep his promise to Allison, he still had to check the lacrosse field, so he headed out through the doors the team used and jogged out into the night air. 

The lights weren't on and it took Scott a few minutes to realise what he was seeing without the added illumination. 

Lydia was lying down on her back. She was splattered with something that looked like paint. Next to her, Jackson was sitting, his jacket off and that same paint on his shirt. He was clutching his side, gasping for breath. 

When he saw the third person, a grown man with claws, fangs, and glowing red eyes, he realised the paint wasn't paint---it was blood. 

"Oh god," Scott croaked. 

"Scott McCall, so good you to join us," the werewolf said as he crouched over Lydia. "I was afraid I'd have to go into the school to find you." 

Scott glanced at Lydia before flicking his gaze back to the werewolf. 

"Find me?" he echoed. 

The monster smirked through his fangs. He brought one clawed hand to his other and sliced across the pad of one finger. Scott watched as blood welled up in the cut before it was pressed into one of Lydia's wounds. She moaned and flinched away; Scott gasped out his surprise, both at the treatment of her and at the reveal that she was still alive. 

"Just securing my backup plan…" the werewolf whispered. 

He pulled his finger back and sucked on it, as if cleaning it. Scott winced. That was not normal human behaviour; that was _gross_

"Now, then. Scott, you are going to help me find Stiles," the werewolf said. 

"Why?" Scott asked. 

"Well, I could say 'because he is your friend and it would be the right thing to do,' but you and I both know you don't care about that, so let me offer you something else," the werewolf said as he stood up. "I have your mother. If you don't help me, I'll kill her." 

Kate was right; werewolves _were_ monsters. Scott's breath was stuck in his chest, at the thought of his mom being in the werewolf's clutches. He couldn't help the werewolf---he shouldn't negotiate with terrorists, right?---but he couldn't let his mother get hurt, either. He couldn't! She was his mom! 

Still, he needed proof before he did anything. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called the house. There was no answer. Then, he called the nurses' station where Melissa frequently worked; the man who answered the phone said Melissa wasn't scheduled to work for two days, which was common before Melissa switched from days to nights or vice versa, when the schedule could allow her the time to adjust. 

"Time's wasting, Scott…" 

Scott dialed his mother's cellular phone and gasped when the ringing came from one of the werewolf's pockets.

"Believe me yet?" 

With a scowl, Scott shoves his phone back into his pants. "Where is she?" he demanded. "I want to talk to her!" 

"I don't think you are in any position to make demands," the werewolf said. "Where did Kate take Stiles, Scott?" 

"I… I didn't recognise the place," Scott admitted. His heart sank as he realised how small a bargaining chip he had in his possession---if he had one at all. "I wasn't driving. But, maybe I can still help---if you promise to let my mom go. She's not a part of this." 

"How can you help?" 

"Phones have GPS!" Scott exclaimed. "I have Stiles' password---we just looked for it that way, a few weeks ago. The password is probably still stored in my phone. I saved it. His phone is there, with him, it has to be, so we can find out _where_ it is."

The werewolf pulled a handkerchief out of his leather jacket and wiped his hands on it. When he pocketed the fabric, he nodded.

"All right," he agreed. "You come with me and help me rescue my beta, and I'll let you and your mother go." 

Scott frowned. "I can search from here," he protested. "Bring Mom to me and---" 

"Oh, no," the monster interrupted. "Hunters set traps, and I might need a human to disarm them." 

"But---"

"Oh, I'll walk you through it," he interrupted. "I know you're only a baby hunter in training, too young for even training wheels." 

He moved away from Lydia and Jackson, sparing Jackson a brief look and a warning to get Lydia to a hospital, and then he grabbed Scott's arm and tugged him further into the darkness.

#####

As soon as the elevator doors opened and Allison saw her father, she called out for him.

Chris raced into the waiting area, barely sparing a glance for anyone else in the room, and he went straight to Allison. She hugged him; he sighed into the top of her head. For a moment, she felt safe and sure like she hadn't in days. Her dad was there, and he would protect her. 

Ever since she stepped outside and saw Jackson carrying Lydia's too-still, blood-stained body, Allison's mind had been whirling off-kilter. She looked like she'd been attacked by an animal. Jackson told her it had been a mountain lion, like the one at the video store; Allison knew, from Kate, that the attacker in that case was a werewolf, so she assumed a werewolf was responsible again. But, she didn't know who it could be. It couldn't be Stiles, and Stiles had always defended Derek… could it be the alpha Kate had mentioned? 

"Tell me what happened," Chris said, pulling Allison from her thoughts. 

"I… I don't know. I was looking for Lydia. Jackson was with her… we brought her here," Allison whispered. "I wanted to call an ambulance. Jackson drove us here instead. I couldn't---I couldn't leave her." 

Chris nodded and stepped back enough from Allison so he could pull her out of the waiting room, away from Lydia's mother and Jackson and everyone else in there waiting for news or treatment. Once they were seated on a bench in the nearby hallway, he cupped her face in his hands. 

"Were you hurt?" he asked. 

She shook her head. 

"Did Jackson tell you who attacked her?" 

Allison swallowed hard and blinked up into her father's face. Underneath the softer emotions, like concern, that he was demonstrating, she could see something harder and more critical. She'd always attributed that to his protective instincts; with Kate's reveal, though, she suspected that was his secret identity, shining through the mask he wore. 

"He said he wasn't sure, but he thought it was another mountain lion," Allison whispered. 

"Did he see the animal?" Chris demanded. "Did you ask---" 

"No, Dad, I didn't ask," she interrupted as she pulled her face out of his gentle grip. "I didn't ask if it's someone you need to kill," she added in a hissed whisper. 

Chris' eyes widened and he leaned back as if she'd slapped him. "Allison… who… who told you?" 

If he looked like he'd been slapped, Allison felt like she'd just been punched in her stomach. Her lungs couldn't fill with breath; her eyes couldn't blink back their tears. In five spoken words, Chris confirmed what Kate told her. Her family hunted werewolves. If one attacked Lydia, Allison wanted them punished, but she didn't know what that would mean for Stiles. She didn't want her family to kill Stiles. 

"Allison." 

"Kate," she whispered. "Kate has Stiles chained up. She's shocking him and hurting him and drugging him. She showed me and Scott. She showed me what you and Mom do with your free time." 

She didn't want to cry---she wanted to be strong---but admitting that she knew what was going on was like breaking a dam inside of her and her feelings poured out before she could hold them back. She curled away from her father, covering her hands as she cried out her feelings. Chris put his hand on her back; she flinched out from under it and stood. 

"Allison… please don't---" 

"I lied to the police!" Allison hissed. "I've been protecting you! You ki---" 

"Keep your voice down," Chris interrupted, his voice stern. "Allison, I don't know what Kate told you, but these… beings. They're not human." 

Her harsh laugh was loud---almost too loud---but it was better than more tears or loud sobbing. "Don't justify your actions with that excuse," she said. "I don't want to hear it. My friend is being hurt---and you guys are going to---" 

"We would never hurt a teenager," Chris interrupted. "Allison, we have a code. Did Kate tell you that?" 

"A code?" 

He nodded. _"Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent,"_ he said. 

"We hunt those who hunt us," she translated. 

He nodded again. 

"Why Stiles?" she asked. "He wasn't hunting us! He was helping us! He protected me at the school by going out and trying---"

"He could have been working with the alpha, trapping you and---"

Allison shook her head. "Absolutely not! I know in my heart that he was helping us," she insisted. "Tell me what could possibly justify what Kate's doing to him." 

"He might've attacked her," Chris said. 

"I don't believe that, do you?" she asked. 

"No, but they don't always have control," he said. He sighed. "God, I wish you didn't know. I wanted to be the one to tell you---with your mother. We… it's not time yet. There's so much. This is hardly the place." 

"Start talking," she said. "Just start somewhere. I need to know this." 

After a slow, deep breath, Chris did as she demanded and started talking. He talked about their history, the monster myth she'd read about for her project, and he talked about what they did. He talked about hunters who were bitten, and the rule that all clans honoured if one of them were bitten; that seemed insane to Allison, but she kept her mouth shut so her father would keep talking. 

When he started talking about what he knew about werewolves, Allison had to restrain herself from saying anything in protest. Werewolves could seem human---but they weren't. Werewolves could appear to have control---but they often lost control and killed or turned people. It seemed like a bad rumour; she had classes with Stiles and she knew he could control himself and that he was just as much of a person as she was. But, she could also see how much her father believed what he was saying. Werewolves were not human, to him, and that was all that mattered. 

"You'll have to be trained, now that you know," Chris said. 

"Trained?"

He nodded. "To join us," he said. 

"I have no desire to join you," she said. 

"It's not that simple, Allison," Chris said. "We answer to others---more senior members of our clan. You come from a long line of hunters; to walk away from that would be seen as an insult." 

"Well, I'm already insulted, so I might as well spread it around!" 

Chris frowned. "Allison, this is serious." 

"I know!" she exclaimed. "I've seen Kate in action---" 

"She has a reason," Chris insisted. 

"Nothing justifies what she's doing!" Allison exclaimed. 

Chris pushed himself off of the bench and approached her. "You don't know everything, and you've never been in a life or death situation, facing down one of these monsters," he said. "It's a scary world out there, Allison, and all we can do is keep these beasts from getting out of control and hurting people." 

"So you're going to hurt _people_ I care about," she said. "Will you hurt Lydia next? If she was bitten by the alpha?" 

"If she's been turned, it's something we might have to consider," Chris admitted. 

Allison frowned. Her father reached out for her, as if to draw her back into her body, but she flinched out of his reach and headed back towards the waiting room. He had given her more information and honesty than Kate had, filling in some of the blanks in her knowledge; she didn't like the information he'd given her, though, and she wasn't sure she could even look at him. Her stomach churned at the thought that Lydia could be next on Kate's---or her family's---list, and her heart _ached_ because she had no idea how she could keep her friends safe.

#####

As his eyes filled with tears, Scott pushed his inhaler into his mouth and forced his lungs to inhale the medication he was spraying into his airway. His mother, held securely in one the werewolf's arms and threatened with the claws of his free hand, softened her gaze as she looked back at him.

"She's unharmed, for now," the werewolf said. "Now, I suggest you do your job and hold up your end of our little agreement." 

"Scott, don't," Melissa protested. "Just go. Whatever it is---"

The werewolf pressed his claws into the soft skin at the base of her neck. "Now, now, Melissa," he crooned, "you don't want to encourage the boy to make such rash decisions. Someone could get hurt." 

"I don't care what happens to me as long as he's away from you," Melissa hissed. 

After a cluck of his tongue, the werewolf tightened his hold on Melissa's body. "You know he won't get away from me, after all the failed stunts you tried to pull," he said. Scott glared as his claws scraped over her collarbone. "If he runs, I will chase him down---and I won't be as nice to him as I've been to you. If my first beta doesn't survive Kate's oh-so-tender mercies, I will be forced to choose another to replace him. Your son isn't an ideal choice... but he is well-placed within the group of local hunters. He could be _very_ useful to me." 

It didn't matter that the werewolf in front of him was the alpha. Scott snarled; he would never betray Allison or her family. 

As he looked at Scott, the werewolf smirked. "Oh, I hit a nerve, did I?" he inquired. "Don't want to double-cross the most evil family in the world?" 

"They protect people!" Scott insisted, his hands clenching into fists. "They protect people from monsters like you! They're heroes!" 

"Scott, you should really take a history class. Those precious people you admire so much trapped us in our home and set us on fire---and stayed to watch the show. They probably roasted marshmallows over my family's corpses. Is that what makes a hero? Murdering _human_ children as they sleep?" 

He was lying---he had to be lying---because the Argents would never do anything like the werewolf described. He was a monster and monsters lied. 

"I was there, Scott, I saw them."

"You're a Hale?" Scott asked. 

He grinned. "Here to take back our territory from the hunters," he confirmed. "Now, I'm going to put your delectable mother somewhere safe, and you're going to get to work. If you find him, I'll let you both go."

As he dragged Melissa towards the trunk of his car, Scott cursed. His mother seemed calm, resigned to her status as bait or bribe, but Scott's fear and rage made him want to shout and scream and punch and kick. He wanted to save his mother; he felt useless because he couldn't. 

While the alpha was distracted with putting Melissa in the trunk of his car, Scott pulled his phone from his pants pocket and unlocked the screen. He sent a quick text to Kate--- _Alpha!!! Ptower @ Main/Cedar_ \---because, surely, she would come if the bad guy were there, and flipped his screen to the phone's internet browser before the werewolf started walking towards him. When the werewolf was stopped in front of him, Scott took a step away from the threat. 

"You're adorable," the alpha said, laughter in his voice. "I'm faster and stronger and smarter than you. A step back isn't going to protect you." 

Scott grimaced but didn't say anything. 

"Is that why you abandoned your friend? You're offended by his superiority?" 

After finding the right website in his browser history, Scott decided remaining silent would be the best option. Anything he would say could risk his and his mother's safety. 

The werewolf apparently decided talking was his best course of action, though. 

"It's understandable, of course. His senses are enhanced, he's stronger, faster, healthier… he was already smarter, thank goodness," the werewolf said. "I can see that you would be jealous of his good fortune. But, Scott, you can have that, too, if you want." 

Scott paused before he could enter Stiles' password and account name into the text prompts. He knew strength and health would help him; he could be better, for lacrosse and for Allison, if he weren't struggling with his body's human limitations. But, he couldn't---wouldn't---give up his humanity. 

Nothing was worth becoming a monster. 

"I could bite you right now," the werewolf continued. "We could go save Stiles and he might be so grateful that he welcomes you back into his life. We could be a pack, stronger and better than everyone else in this place. You could help us defend the territory. We could have peace, you could have power… you'd never be alone again because you'd be pack, with your friend." 

He lifted his head and looked at the alpha werewolf. His words made him think back to Deaton's words, about standing at Stiles' side. 

Had Deaton meant that Scott should become a werewolf, and support Stiles in that way?

No, he couldn't have meant that. Deaton was normal and thought the world was normal. He was difficult to understand, but he was still normal. He didn't know about werewolves; he couldn't have meant for Scott to find an alpha to bite him, so he could join his friend's pack. Deaton would never suggest something so _insane_. 

Was it insane, though, really? 

Scott knew Stiles excluded him because they were fundamentally different. The attempts to repair their friendship failed, in part, because Scott didn't know what Stiles had been experiencing. He insulted Derek Hale without knowing that Derek was like Stiles; it was obvious that Stiles would be loyal to one of his own kind over a human. 

And it was that train of thought that made him wonder if taking the bite could help him help Stiles. If they were the same, biologically, he could understand Stiles. Stiles would understand him. 

But, Allison… and her family… 

Could he still protect people if he were a monster? Could he be strong enough to help Stiles stay human if he remained human? 

"Username. Password." 

Scott blinked and ducked his head. "Right," he muttered. 

His phone found the information he'd saved the last time Stiles' phone was missing, and he entered it into the prompts. 

The screen refreshed---and told him that the password did not match the account username. 

"Uh oh." 

"Uh oh?" the werewolf inquired. 

"I… yeah. Seems like Stiles changed his password. Weird." 

The werewolf snorted. "Yes, perhaps he was worried about his privacy," he said. "Smart kid." 

Knowing he was about to be considered a failure and feeling fear for both himself and his mother, Scott took another step away from the alpha. He angled himself towards the car; if he ran, maybe he could at least unlock the trunk before the werewolf killed him, and then his mother could escape. 

He was woefully unequipped for the strategic thinking required to escape unscathed, but he would try anything to get Melissa away from the werewolf. 

As he was about to start apologising, the alpha tilted his head. He seemed to be listening to something in the distance---something that Scott couldn't hear. Scott couldn't imagine what it was, but it made the werewolf smirk more, so it seemed to be positive. 

"Well, Scott, you're lucky. Stiles is still alive, and I believe I know where he is," the alpha said. 

"How?" 

"He just howled. Much more help than you've been." 

Scott frowned. "I tried!" he protested. 

The werewolf pulled his car keys from his coat pocket. Without saying anything else, he turned around and started walking towards the driver's side of his vehicle. Scott gulped, looking from the car to the werewolf. 

"What about my mom?" Scott asked. 

"You didn't hold up your end of the bargain, so I'm under no obligation to hold up mine. Think of this as a learning experience!" 

_No._

Without thinking, Scott rushed forward and tugged on the werewolf's arm. 

"Let her go!" he shouted. "Please!" 

The werewolf moved his arm and sent Scott flying back into another parked car. He must have struck his head on something, because he was seeing spots when he tried to search for the werewolf. He groaned and struggled through his daze; he slowly pushed himself to stand, wavering as pain and nausea registered in his body. 

When he recovered enough to see past the spots and to think past the pain, he saw the werewolf was already in the driver's seat and the car's engine was already running. He cursed and raced forward, slamming his hands down on the trunk of the car as it stopped reversing out of its parking spot. But, before he could get his fingers into the trunk latch, the car lurched forward and out of his grasp.

"No! Mom!" Scott shouted. 

He raced after the car until he couldn't anymore, catching a glimpse of it disappearing around a corner before he bent over to catch his breath.

#####

_"The alpha attacked two of Allison's friends outside the high school. Chris is at the hospital now, with her, and he's gathering intel,"_ Victoria said in Kate's ear, over the hands-free device she used while driving.

"Anything else?" Kate asked. 

_"Tyhurst reported that Sheriff Stilinski brought Derek Hale to the scene of the accident. He also said that after an hour or two, the Sheriff brought Derek into the station and took his statement."_

Kate frowned. "His statement? For what?" 

_"Events preceding the fire,"_ Victoria replied. 

"Wow. The Sheriff is focused on that instead of on finding his puppy?" Kate asked, chuckling a little through her words. "Talk about priorities." 

Victoria sighed in her ear. _"Perhaps. Tyhurst said one of the other deputies believes it's all tied together,"_ she said. 

"We've always been blamed for the fire," Kate commented. While Kate felt that Victoria would support her actions, since she was more bloodthirsty than Chris, it wasn't the time to start talking about past missions. "There's nothing to tie us to it. Just rumour." 

_"Are you certain?"_ Victoria asked. 

"Yes." 

_"You were careful?"_

Kate frowned. Maybe she would never have to talk about past missions; it seemed like Victoria already knew something about them. 

_"Kate?"_

"The alpha took care of the arsonists I hired," Kate admitted. "Anyone else was a hunter or a friend of the family. The rest is his word against mine." 

_"Good,"_ Victoria replied. _"How are you doing with the younger beta?"_

It was Kate's turn to sigh. The kid was stronger than she assumed he'd be. Nothing she tried made him talk. He would curse her out and tell her how dumb she was, but he wouldn't tell her the identity of the alpha who bit him or the location of any other werewolf in town. She knew he would eventually break---torture had that effect on everyone, there was always a breaking point---but she didn't know if it would happen before someone came to the kid's rescue. 

"He's stupid loyal," Kate admitted. "I'm trying, but he won't talk."

 _"They're pack animals, one of them will come for him. Plan for that and be ready,"_ Victoria advised. 

"And the kid?" 

_"When you have Derek, kill him if Derek won't talk,"_ she suggested. _"We only need one beta to find the alpha."_

Kate smirked. "That, I can do," she purred. 

_"Call if you need backup, and I'll send people to you,"_ Victoria said before she ended the call. 

Kate turned her vehicle onto Cedar, the long stretch of road before reaching the hospital, and thought about her plan. As soon as Stiles howled, she would need Allison and Scott to be armed and in position around the house. They'd be three against two, with two more waiting in the shadows; they'd be fine. They could deal with Stiles and take down Derek, and then she'd be in a prime spot to catch the alpha. Allison and Scott could watch while Kate and her men took down the distracted alpha. 

Speaking of Scott… 

As Kate realised it was Scott, walking along the street, she slowed down and pulled her car onto the shoulder. He hurried over to her, stopping at and opening the passenger side door. 

"The alpha! Did you see my text?"

Kate shook her head. "I don't exactly check it when I'm driving. What's up, Scottie?" she asked. 

"He… he's a Hale. He has my mom. He tried to get me to do stuff---"

"Where's he headed?" Kate asked. 

"I don't---" 

Kate's phone started ringing. She answered it, pressing the button on the device in her ear. 

"Talk to me," she said. 

"The kid howled," Georgie said. "Sending Bennett to the perch, he's better, long-range. I'll wait with the kid in case the other beta shows." 

"Good," she replied. "I'll be there soon with our trainees. Time they got their feet wet." 

"Proper thing," Georgie said before ending the call. 

Kate grinned at Scott. "Time to go hunt. You ready?" 

Scott nodded and hopped into the seat. "Yeah!"

She put the vehicle into gear and waited until he was settled in his seat before pulling back out onto the road. 

"Let's go get Allison and bag us three werewolves!"

#####

After getting a brief report from one of the on-duty nurses, John made his way into the waiting room. He hadn't expected to make a trip to the hospital, but he suspected Peter had been causing problems and he needed to get to the bottom of that situation before he could get Derek and go looking for Stiles. He tried to keep his impatience off his face as he looked at Allison and Jackson, sitting next to Natalie; when Lydia's mother saw him, she smiled tiredly and stood to greet him.

"Sheriff," she murmured. As she put her hand on his arm, gently squeezing, she said, "I'm sorry you have to be here right now, with everything else going on." 

"Thanks, Missus Martin," he said, nodding his head. 

She used her free hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Call me Natalie," she insisted. 

He nodded. "All right, Natalie. Then you call me John," he agreed. "How's your daughter?" 

"Sedated and intubated. They're stitching up her wounds and running tests. It's like she keeps having allergic reactions to something they can't find," Natalie replied. She sighed. "What is happening in this town?" 

"I'm trying to get to the bottom of that," he said. 

"Have you heard anything about Stiles?" Natalie asked. 

"I've got some leads," he said. "We're planning to follow up on those tonight." 

"Do you know why---" she stopped short and shook her head. "Sorry. I just… it's weird, isn't it?" 

When Chris Argent walked into the room, John shot a glare in his direction before he turned his attention back to Natalie. 

"Well, Stiles was looking at some of my cold case files---stuff from five or six years ago," John said, playing into the lie he and Derek developed to help tie Stiles' abduction to the murders and to Kate's actions. "I thought he'd spin his tires in the mud for a while, and go back to playing video games and driving me crazy. I told him to tell me if he found anything---never expecting him to, either, but…" 

"He's a very bright boy," Natalie murmured. 

"Yes, and I think he found something in recent events that ties to one of those cases… and got in over his head and forgot to keep me in the loop," John said. He sighed and shook his head. "Anyway. Enough about that---you have your own worries. So you know, I'm having the nurse gather up Lydia's clothes and the evidence photographs, and I'll take those back to the station. I want Wildlife or Animal Control to look at the wounds. Just to be sure." 

Natalie nodded. "I'll let you know when she wakes up, too, if you'd like." 

"That would be helpful, to get her statement as soon as she's ready," John said, smiling a little at her. "Anything you need, you call, all right? If I can't help, I'll try to put you in touch with someone who can." 

"Thank you, John," Natalie murmured. 

John nodded. Once he excused himself, he moved around her so he could see Jackson and Allison. He decided, with Chris in the room, it would be better to start with Jackson. Chris would insert himself into the conversation, either to glean information for his own nefarious purposes or to prevent John from getting to the truth, and John might be able to get something from Jackson if he could take him to the hallway and stop pretending. 

"Mister Whittemore, would you mind stepping into the corridor and answering a few questions?" John asked. "Nothing bad, I promise. I just want to get a sense of what happened when you found Miss Martin." 

Jackson nodded and stood up when John gestured towards the doorway. Chris started to protest, but Allison, surprisingly, stopped him. With no other objections, John and Jackson left the waiting area and walked over to a bench between a couple fake plants and beneath a poster about vaccinations. 

He thought about easing into their conversation, but John was sick of tiptoeing around the truth. Jackson knew enough, based on conversations with Stiles and Danny, and John felt he could cut the crap, so to speak, and skip to the heart of the matter. 

"Did Peter attack Lydia?" he asked. 

Jackson's eyes widened. "Who?"

"Kid, I know more than you do about all of this, and I still have to rescue my son from crazy hunters, so how about you stop pretending I don't know what's going on," John said. 

"I…" 

"Did he hurt you, too?" John asked. 

Jackson gulped and shook his head. "N-no, he… he told me to meet him outside," he admitted. "I didn't know he had Lydia. I didn't know. When I got outside, she was already… he bit her. Scratched her." 

"Okay. Did he say anything?" 

"He took Scott. Said he had his mother, and he'd let them go if Scott helped him find Stiles," Jackson mumbled. 

"Why would he do that?" John asked, pushing past another wave of fear to try to do his job. 

Jackson turned his head away. "I didn't know he'd… I didn't know. I just…" 

"I know," John murmured. He didn't need Derek's or Stiles' super senses to detect a little regret in Jackson's slumped posture and mumbled words. "It sounds like a good idea in theory, but the reality can be different." 

"Why would he do that to Lydia?" Jackson asked. "She doesn't even know they're real. She's not a threat." 

"I don't think he's all that stable anymore," John theorised. "So, you told Peter that Scott knows where Stiles is being held. And Peter acted on that information." 

Glancing in John's direction, Jackson nodded. 

"Did Scott say anything then about where Stiles is?"

Jackson shook his head.

"Did he bite you?" 

Jackson shook his head again, still avoiding eye contact with him. If John had to bet, though, he would have said Jackson was lying, but John had bigger fish---or werewolves---to fry. If they survived Peter and Kate, John would ask Derek to approach Jackson and figure out if he were going to turn into a werewolf. 

First thing first. 

"All right. Just… stick to the mountain lion story for now, okay? I don't… I don't want the Argents to give you a hard time," he said. "Be careful and look after Lydia---and yourself. If you need anything---" 

"I'm fine." 

"---please call. You might not want a pack, but it might be something you need. You hear me?" 

Jackson looked like he was going to protest again, but he nodded at the last second. 

John dared to squeeze his shoulder. "Why don't you take a minute, wash up, and go get some coffee or something?" 

"I'm fine," Jackson repeated. 

"All right," John agreed. 

When they went back into the waiting room, John looked to Allison. He tried to smile; she tried to smile back at him. 

"My turn?" she asked. 

"Please," John said. "Just a few questions." 

Chris stepped between them. "I hardly think that's necessary," he protested. 

"Dad, it's fine," Allison said. 

She stood and walked across the room. To no one's surprise, Chris followed his daughter. John couldn't blame him---he would have done the same thing if a cop wanted to question Stiles---but he had hoped to get through his time at the hospital with minimal confrontation. Chris sitting in on their conversation would make that impossible. John couldn't even look at the other man without his blood pressure increasing in intensity. The need to slam him into a wall intensified with every second Chris spent in his presence. 

When they were in the corridor, back by the bench, John started with the subject of Lydia. 

"Scott and I were looking for her," Allison explained. "She and Jackson had a fight. I was worried. Scott was supposed to search the locker room and the lacrosse field. I checked the bathrooms. I couldn't find Scott and he didn't answer his phone. So I headed in the direction of the field, thinking… maybe they were all there."

"And you saw Jackson carrying Lydia," John supplied.

She nodded. "He said he thought it was a mountain lion." 

"Yeah, that's what he told me," John lied, trying to protect Jackson from Chris' attention. He crossed his arms. "Now. Tell me where your aunt is holding my son. Please." 

"This conversation is over," Chris said. "Allison, go sit with Jackson. I need to have a talk with the Sheriff."

"Dad, no---" 

"This is not a debate," Chris interjected, his tone sharp and gruff. 

Allison's eyes widened before they narrowed. She raised her chin as she stared at her father; after a second's pause, she turned on her heel and marched out of the hallway. John would have been more impressed at the spine she showed if she'd applied that show of strength towards saving his son. From what John understood had happened, he was grossly disappointed with both her and Scott---although more so with Scott than with Allison. They'd looked into their classmate's eyes---and in Scott's case, his best friend's eyes---and abandoned him to a dangerous wackadoo like Kate Argent. Allison had responsibilities and loyalties to the hunters because they were her family, but Scott didn't have that excuse. John thought it would take something remarkable for him to forgive either teenager. 

Friends shouldn't leave friends behind to be tortured… that was a rule, wasn't it? 

As soon as they were as alone as they could be in a hospital corridor, John turned and looked at him. "Then you tell me, Mister Argent. Because I know the vehicle that crashed into his is owned by one of your shell companies and I know your sister brought Allison and Scott to wherever he's being held to admire her handiwork." 

"You have no proof that Kate is involved in this very upsetting situation," Chris said. "I'm sorry for your troubles, but---" 

"I have proof that Kate is involved in a lot of upsetting situations," John interrupted. "I know what she did to Derek---and I know that it was her who burned his family alive, with the help of some very upstanding arsonists, some of whom are now dead. 

"I know she poisoned the well water of another large, isolated _family_ around Fresno. She decimated their population---for no reason, because as far as I can tell, nothing unusual, not even a weird hunting accident, happened in that area prior to her arrival. 

"And I know she sexually abused a young man in Bakersfield, taking advantage of him so she could gain access to his family. After she tried to kill them in another fire, he killed himself. 

"There are two monsters in Beacon Hills right now," John continued, glaring into Chris' seemingly cool, detached gaze and refusing to back down from the challenge the hunter presented. "One might be a werewolf seeking revenge for his murdered family, but the other is your sister---and she has my son." 

"Your son is a werewolf," Chris said. 

"My son is a bright and curious boy who tried to solve a crime and got bitten by the bad alpha---without his consent---for his troubles," John said. "And right now, he's being tortured---and yes, I know this, I have proof---and abused by the monster that you let loose in my community."

"Your son could kill you. He's a rabid animal." 

John snorted. "I won't lie and say the alpha has noble intentions, but you don't know the first thing about my son---or about Derek---if that's what you believe. I don't claim to be an expert at killing those sorts of people, but I spent the last full moon with them, and it was pretty low-key," he said. "You ruin these people and their families, without a thought for what your devastation causes. After everything I've learned since this mess started, I can't help but wonder if this is a chicken and egg situation: do the hunters destroying a pack cause the violent omega, or are their actions as natural as you believe them to be?" 

Chris opened his mouth, but John quickly continued. "I agree, not the point. I'm sure we'll have plenty more opportunities to debate the finer points of your so-called vocation," he said. "So. The alpha is looking for my son. If he finds Stiles before I do, there won't be any evidence left of Kate or of her crimes---and she is going to be arrested for what she's done to Stiles, at the very least. Tell me where she is." 

"I'm not going to give you anything without proof," Chris said. "You come in here, throwing around accusations---" 

After muttering a curse, John pulled out his phone and thumbed his way to the audio file Danny had sent him from an anonymous mail address. They meant for it to be used as evidence, something he could present as having allegedly come from an anonymous someone who wanted to help, but John was sick of Chris' defense of Kate. He pressed the file and let Kate's voice and Stiles' sounds of pain fill the air between them. 

Chris flinched. Every promise and threat Kate purred made his shoulders hunch just a little bit more. Stiles' scream had Chris looking away from the device; as much as it broke John's heart to hear, he took pleasure in the way Chris seemed to be struggling. While he knew revenge wasn't the way for him, a small part of his personality was vindictive and craved immediate retribution for the crimes committed against his son. Chris' discomfort was a step in that direction. 

"Is this what you do, too?" John asked. 

"I've never do that!" Chris insisted. "This is not our code!" 

"No, but your code inspires you to shoot a teenage boy who has never done anything against another person---without even knowing who he is," John said. "I know about your full moon activities. I'm not impressed with your code, Argent. Seems like nothing more than a justification for abuse, assault, and murder." 

Before Chris could say anything else, John crossed his arms over his chest. "Tell me where she is," he growled. 

"I… I don't know where she's set up," Chris admitted. "But, I can track---" 

John's phone started ringing, with Derek's number flashing on the screen. He stepped back and answered the call. 

"Derek? Any news?" 

_"I heard him,"_ Derek said. _"He howled. I know where he is."_

"Where---" 

Derek didn't wait for him to ask his question. _"The house, but from the back. I forgot… there are tunnels and rooms. Cells. When we couldn't control ourselves, or if an omega came through town… but, we rarely used them. There's an entrance separate from the house, two hundred feet or so away,"_ he explained. 

"All right. Is there a way in through the house?" John asked. 

_"Yeah,"_ Derek replied. _"Under the stairs, through the kitchen. Still intact, from what I remember."_

"Okay. Use that entrance. Scott would have recognised the house, so it's safe to assume they're using the back way," John said, trying to think strategically and past his eagerness to have his son back. "I'm on my way, but don't wait for me if you think you can _safely_ get Stiles out. No unnecessary risks, Derek." 

_"Yes sir,"_ he replied before ending the call. 

"I want to help," Chris said. 

John snorted. "I bet."

"I can get Kate to back off without bloodshed," he insisted. 

John doubted that, but he also sensed that Chris had been rocked by descriptions of Kate's behaviour and the proof John presented. He could see some sort of steel in Chris' eyes; he hoped it would help Stiles instead of kill him, because John knew he needed support in crossing into the mad hunter's territory. Chris, if he were honest and helpful, could recognise traps and weapons since he was more familiar with Kate's methods. 

"Fine. You can come. But, if you do anything to put Stiles' or Derek's life in danger, I will arrest you, too, as one of her conspirators," John said. When Chris nodded, he continued. "You can't kill the alpha until Derek deals with him." 

"What?!"

John shook his head. "If he's going after you, disable him or kill him if you have no choice, but I cannot have another crazy alpha in town trying to take over this territory," he said. "Derek has a right to his sister's stolen alpha power. I want to give him a chance to get it back and to reclaim his home." 

"But you're not going to let me deal with Kate." 

"No, I'm not going to let you slap her on the wrist after she's ruined whole families' lives," John insisted. 

"Packs." 

"Families, packs, same thing in my book," John said. "Do we have a deal?" 

Chris stared at him for a long minute, before nodding. "Tell me where we're going. I'll meet you there after I talk to Allison." 

John nodded, too, and gave Chris the information he'd need to approach the property. He didn't wait for Chris, though. Chris could catch up to him, if he followed through on his decision. John _needed_ to get to his son before anyone else could hurt him.

#####

"Allison!"

She looked up, saw Scott, and gasped. He looked _terrible_. His suit was ripped, he had a split lip and what looked like was going to be some spectacular facial bruising in a couple more hours. 

"What… what happened?" 

Scott looked around the room, eyes darting to Jackson and Lydia's parents, and turned back to Allison. He smiled a bit as he walked towards her. 

"Long story," he said, taking her hand in his. "Is your dad still here?" 

She shook her head. "He took off with the Sheriff," she said. "He didn't tell me where he was going, just said there was a situation he needed to help straighten out. He just left. I'm surprised you didn't see him." 

"Kate's here," he said. "She says she needs our help." 

Allison frowned. "I… I don't think I want to go. Lydia---" 

"It's time," Scott whispered. 

Allison closed her eyes and sighed, bowing her head. She didn't want to hunt; she didn't want to hurt Stiles or his friend. She wanted to stay by Lydia's side and comfort her---when she regained consciousness. 

Reluctantly, she nodded and followed him out of the waiting area. 

"Hale is the alpha," Scott said, still whispering even though they were away from the others. "He took my mom, tried to get me to help him."

"He has Melissa?" Allison asked. "Derek?" 

"No, it's a relative---but Derek has to know him. They're family, right?" Scott replied. "C'mon. Kate just needs us to get Stiles and Derek out of the way so she and the others can take out the alpha." 

"But…" 

"No killing," Scott assured her. "We're just helping. And rescuing my mom." 

Allison sighed and nodded. Melissa had always been kind to her, welcoming her into their home and lives, and Allison couldn't abandon her to the alpha werewolf's not-so-tender mercies. She saw the news reports about the killings. She knew the alpha could kill Melissa, too. 

Melissa was Scott's mom. 

What would she do to rescue or protect her mother? _Anything._

"Okay," she said, nodding again. "Let's go."

#####

When Derek struck the back of the oversized hunter's head and watched him collapse, he felt a small measure of satisfaction---but it was nothing compared to the joy of pulling Stiles free of his shackles and into his arms. He reeked of fear and pain and _Kate_ , but he was alive and hugging him back, and that was more than enough for Derek.

"Oh, god, I am so glad to see you," Stiles confessed into Derek's shoulder as he cried. "Please tell me you're real." 

Derek squeezed his arms around Stiles' bare torso. "I'm real. I promise," he whispered. "We were going crazy looking for you. I accidentally roared in front of Erica and Boyd… we've all been trying to find you, together." 

Stiles pulled his head back and smiled a little through his tear-streaked face. "Wolf's out of the bag, huh?" he asked. 

He nodded. "That's what Danny said. I had to answer _all_ their questions." 

"Boyd talked? A lot? And I missed it?"

Derek snorted. "I'm sure you'll get another chance," he said. He set Stiles back against the table and looked him over. "Are you injured? Are you healing okay?" 

After tugging on his discarded shirts, which had been dropped on that table, Stiles tilted his head down as he brought his hands up and started counting his fingers under his breath. Derek wasn't sure what he was doing---did he think Kate had removed one of his fingers?---but Stiles seemed shaken and determined, so he remained silent until Stiles finished his work. 

"Had to know, if it's real," Stiles said as he wiped his cheeks. "When I'm dreaming, I usually have more fingers. If this is a magic illusion, it's pretty good." 

"Smell me," Derek instructed. "Ask me a question Kate couldn't know." 

"Who took you in after the fire and… what does Scott's anger smell like?" 

Derek smiled. "Jeremy. And burnt toast---or something else that's burnt to a crisp," he replied. 

As soon as he finished speaking, Stiles launched himself at Derek again. He wrapped his arms around Derek's shoulders; he buried his face in Derek's neck. Derek could feel and hear Stiles take a _deeeeep_ breath. When he exhaled, Derek felt him shudder and heard him whine. The truth was sinking into Stiles' senses. 

On instinct, Derek cupped the back of Stiles' head and held him close. Stiles was alive; he wanted to howl and celebrate even though he knew they weren't out of the woods yet, in a literal or figurative sense. 

"Your dad's on his way," Derek whispered. "I called him before I ran here." 

"Oh, god," Stiles whispered. "I thought I was going to die without---" 

"We aren't gonna let you die," he interrupted. 

Stiles nodded, his face still pressed into Derek's skin. Derek didn't know how Stiles felt; he could scent a variety of chemical and emotional signals, but they couldn't tell him what Stiles was thinking or what emotion was ruling those thoughts. If it were him, Derek knew he'd be feeling a jumble of fear, anger, and relief, so he used that as a guide and started walking them out of the room. Stiles clung to him, refusing to walk on his own; Derek reacted by adjusting his hold on Stiles so he could carry him out of the tunnels. 

Once they passed through the door in what was once the pantry, Stiles settled enough to slide down onto his feet. He stayed close, though, as if needing physical contact to ground him; Derek knew he needed contact, he could feel the urge buzzing around his nerves, so he encouraged it. He kept his arm around Stiles' shoulders as they moved towards the front of the house. 

"Sorry to make you come back here," Stiles whispered. 

"Don't apologise for that." 

"But---"

Derek shook his head. "You're pack. I'd go anywhere to find you, got it?" 

Stiles nodded. 

"Why didn't you just tell us where you were when you saw the text?" Derek said. 

After a shaky breath, Stiles said, "Well… I didn't want to tip her off. And I didn't want you guys to rush in here and get killed." 

"Stiles---"

"I figured I should wait until she wasn't freaking on top of me," he continued. "God, she's… nuts. I didn't know if she was going to lick me or stab me. I'm going to have nightmares forever." 

"I think we're going to need Doctor Mahealani to offer us some sort of family plan after tonight," Derek said.

Stiles snorted. "Probably." He groaned. "Man, I hate talking about my feelings." 

"You think I enjoy it?" Derek asked. 

After another snort, Stiles nudged him. "Thanks. Seriously." 

"You ready to get out of here?" 

Stiles nodded. "So ready." 

Derek let his senses drift, broadening so he was more aware of their surroundings beyond the interior of the house. He couldn't hear anything apart from the rustling leaves, and what he thought was a deer's hooves walking through the brush on the east side of the structure. There were no strange smells, either. It seemed like they were alone. 

"C'mon," he prompted. "We'll head out the front, take the main path and circle back. Try to meet your dad by the tunnel's other entrance." 

Stiles nodded again. "Let's go," he agreed. 

They left the shadows of the house and crossed the unkempt yard to slip into the trees. Derek let his eyes glow as he scanned their surroundings. He didn't want to tip anyone off to their location, but he needed the heightened vision to allow him to navigate them safely through the dark. That one hunter couldn't be the only one guarding Stiles; Kate would never have left the property unless her captive had been completely secure. 

As soon as he entertained that particular thought, he started thinking about Kate and her methods. He cringed and pressed Stiles back into a tree. 

"What?" Stiles asked. 

"This doesn't feel right," Derek whispered. 

"Georgie wasn't enough of a challenge?" he asked. 

Derek nodded. 

"Shit. I was hoping I was only thinking that because of the trauma." 

"Let's keep moving… just… keep your eyes and ears peeled," Derek said. "We'll stay off the cleared path." 

When he saw Stiles nod, Derek removed his hand from Stiles' chest and pointed in the direction he thought they should move. Stiles waited for Derek to walk before he moved; he kept his hand clenched in the shirt under Derek's leather jacket. Derek liked the contact because it grounded him in the present and reminded him that Stiles was alive and with him. He wanted to keep Stiles as close as possible for as long as possible. 

He'd been so focused on Stiles behind him that he didn't notice the arrow piercing his shoulder until it was settled deep in his flesh. He stepped back, reaching for Stiles with his good arm as he moved behind a tree. 

Stiles reacted as soon as he saw the blood. His face shifted and his claws emerged; he smelled more like anger than fear, but both emotional scents were strong. Derek wanted to tell him to control himself---to make it harder for another hunter to decide to shoot him---but another arrow struck him in the leg. 

The arrow that landed in a nearby tree, well above their heads, was not like regular arrows. Derek grabbed Stiles' head and pulled him into his chest as he buried his face into Stiles' shoulder. The flash was bright and the explosion was loud, just as intense in both respects as he remembered from his last encounter with that type of ammunition. Stiles whimpered and cursed, but he stayed close to Derek. 

"You need to run," Derek whispered. "Get to your dad." 

"Derek---" 

"Kate's probably here," he said, his voice still quiet. "Get away from her." 

"I…" 

"Stiles." 

Stiles sniffled into Derek's shoulder before he nodded. He stood up, fear leaking from every pore in his flesh, and shared a solemn stare with Derek; he turned and launched himself in the direction they'd been running. 

A gun fired and Stiles dropped. 

"Stiles!" Derek shouted, feeling loss and terror and knowing there was nothing he could do until he pulled the arrows from his body. 

His heart was still beating. Stiles was still alive. That knowledge did nothing to quell the feeling of _oh god, I can't lose my pack again_ that was hindering Derek's ability to breathe and think clearly. It took a few attempts before the could push past that fear. He forced himself to stand and he wrapped his hand around the arrow piercing his shoulder; with a firm yank, he ripped it from his body. The pain of removing it was worse than the pain of it being in his body, but he endured it. 

He saw Kate coming out from the shadows. She looked more wild and dangerous than she'd appeared six years ago---but, back then, she'd tried to hide her killer instinct, like a wolf dressed as a sheep. Her grin was all the motivation he needed to rip the second arrow from his leg. He was rushing towards Stiles before he could think about it; he covered Stiles' body with his and flashed his eyes at Kate. 

"There you are, babe," Kate cooed. She licked her lips. "I've missed playing with you." 

Derek growled. 

"Scott, shoot him," Kate ordered. "I'll get the other one." 

"Shoot him?" Allison asked. 

Derek looked at the teenagers. They were coming out from their hiding spot. Allison's bow was hanging from one of her hands, her other hand was clenched in a tight fist; Scott was holding a gun, something that looked automatic from Derek's crouch over Stiles. 

"You said we were just going to catch them," Scott added. 

Kate kept her gun trained on Derek, aiming at his chest, but she turned to grin at the two hunters-in-training. 

"We did that. Now, we're gonna kill them," Kate said. "It's not that hard, guys." 

Stiles' hand landed on Derek's hip. His fingers twitched before they tightened on his belt. Derek almost sagged in relief; Stiles was healing from wherever he'd been shot. Not taking his eyes off of Kate's gun, Derek shifted to pull Stiles in close to him. He couldn't smell wolfsbane; he hoped that meant Stiles wasn't poisoned. 

"Ohh no, I know that look," Kate said, pulling Derek's attention. "That is the 'you're gonna have to do it yourself' look." 

As Kate turned back to him, Derek tightened his hold on Stiles. He didn't want to die---and he definitely didn't want Stiles to die---but he took some comfort in the fact that he was with his pack and that he would be with his pack after Kate pulled the trigger. 

"No regrets," Stiles whispered. 

Derek tucked his nose into Stiles' shoulder. He inhaled the scent there, less fear and more _home_. 

"No regrets," Derek whispered back. 

He might have regrets about not being able to protect Stiles from Kate, but he needed Stiles to know Derek _never_ regretted letting him into his life. If they were going to be killed, on the ground where his family died, he needed Stiles certain on that fact---and any equivocation on the subject of all the regrets in Derek's life could bring doubt to Stiles' overactive mind. He might not be able to protect Stiles' body, but he could protect his heart and mind. 

"Kate, no… Kate!" Allison shouted. "What are you doing?"

"Ridding the world of a couple monsters," Kate said. She kicked Derek's sneaker with her booted foot. "God, I'm gonna miss fucking with you. But all good things must come to an end, I suppose…" 

When Chris Argent shouted from somewhere around Allison and Scott, Derek tensed. Stiles gasped into Derek's shoulder, his arms tightening for a brief moment. When Derek caught the scent of John nearby, he dared to lift his head. 

"Kate, I know what you did---the Sheriff knows what you did," Chris said, a gun in his hands, too. "Put your gun down." 

Kate shook her head. "I did what I was told to do," she protested. 

Chris frowned. "No one asked you to murder innocent people. There were children in that house---ones that were human," he said. "Look at what you're doing now. You tortured a sixteen year old boy and now you're holding a gun at him and his pack with no proof he spilled human blood. We go by the code: _Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent._ "

John came out of the forest, his weapon in his hands, too. 

"Oh, hey, Sheriff," Kate said, grinning and winking at him. "Coming to join the family dispute?" 

"I don't care much about your family code---it's all a lie as far as I can see," John said. "You're a sadistic ephebophile and a murderer, and you're going to jail. Drop the gun and put your hands up." 

"Gonna tell the judge I put a few dogs down?" 

Stiles growled. Derek squeezed him close, trying to calm him into silence; he was touched by Stiles' defense of his family, but he did not want to draw Kate's attention back to them---or back to Stiles, in particular. 

Derek watched as Chris glanced between Kate and John. He didn't lower his weapon, but he did gesture and mutter to Allison that she and Scott should move behind him. They obeyed; Chris took a step forward so that he was almost in line with John's position. 

"Kate, don't try and shoot your way out of this," he said, his tone softening. "Dad, Allison, me… we care about you. You're our family. Just put the gun down and we'll figure out our next move." 

Kate glanced at Stiles and Derek before returning her attention to her brother. "Would you shoot me, Chris? I get the Sheriff---he's a sympathiser, all bleeding hearts, don't hurt the animals, blah, blah---but you? My brother? An Argent?" 

"You're not following the code," Chris replied. "This is not what we're supposed to be. Put the gun down---before I put you down." 

Derek knew Kate would never obey her brother. It didn't matter that he had seniority---or that he was more sensible of the two of them. Kate operated outside of the flimsy code to which they allegedly adhered, and she never backed down from a challenge. Even if Chris were completely serious about shooting her, which Derek strongly doubted, she would see it as a challenge to try to kill two werewolves before she could be shot, too. 

He never got to hear Kate's response to Chris' request and John's demand. Before anyone could say anything, Peter roared from behind the house. Allison and Scott tensed, flooding the air with the sour scent of their fear; Chris glanced towards the house and its darker shadows, while John kept his gaze trained on Kate. Stiles sniffed the air and nodded into Derek's chest. 

After he expanded his focus to the wider area, he could smell and hear Peter---as well as blood, which suggested to Derek that at least one of Kate's backup hunters was no longer an immediate concern. Kate was distracted, moving her gun and her gaze towards the house, so Derek eased himself into a more vertical crouching position to let him look around the clearing. He wasn't going to leave Stiles vulnerable; Stiles was his priority. 

"It's not wolfsbane," Stiles whispered. "Go stop Peter." 

Derek frowned. "Stiles…" 

He pointed towards the house. Derek squinted and could see one of the hunter's trucks parked in the shadows between the most charred areas of the house and the forest; he looked back at Stiles and waited for an explanation. 

"I have an idea," Stiles whispered. "I can get there and back. They'll be focused on Peter right now." 

"I need to get the bullet out first," he insists. 

Stiles whined, but nodded. Peter wasn't on them yet, he had a few minutes. 

"Sheriff," Derek called out. 

While he might have wanted to rush to his son and show Kate his back, Derek had to credit the way John circled them so he could keep his weapon trained on Kate. 

"Stiles…" 

"Dad," Stiles whispered. "I'm okay. Promise." 

Derek looked up at John and nodded. "He's okay," he confirmed. "But he was shot and I need to get the bullet out." 

"Wolfsbane?" John asked. 

He shook his head, and then he asked, "Do you have a knife?"

John replied by taking a small item out of his pocket and holding it out for Derek to take. He snatched it up, opened it, and applied himself to tugging Stiles' jeans up high enough so he could see the bullet hole in Stiles' calf. The wound was still leaking blood sluggishly; he needed to get it out before the surface skin closed over it. 

"Easy, Stiles," Derek warned. 

Stiles nodded and braced himself. Derek didn't ease into it---because it was going to hurt, no matter what---and he didn't work slowly. He dug the knife into Stiles' wound, fished until he felt metal on mental, and then tried to leverage out the bullet. He tried to ignore Stiles' whining as best as he could, working through the sounds and ignoring the scents, and they both breathed a sigh of relief when the bullet fell on the ground. 

"He's good?" John asked. 

"Bullet's out," Derek said. He smoothed his hand over Stiles' skin; he couldn't see the telltale marks of wolfsbane poisoning. "He'll heal." 

Stiles sighed. "I hate being shot," he whined. 

John smiled a bit. "I hate it, too, son," he agreed. 

When Stiles sat up, he put his hand on Derek's arm. "Protect my dad?" 

Derek nodded. "Be careful," he said. "Peter---" 

As if on cue, and Derek would believe if it were because Peter always had a flair for the dramatic, Peter roared and burst out of the house. A shower of charred wood and glass rained down behind him; the visual effect added to the monstrous appearance of his wolf trying to burst free of his flesh. 

"If you're going to do something, now's the time," Derek said as he stood up and put himself between John and Peter. 

Stiles nodded. He waited for Peter to make a move towards them, and then he scurried off into the shadows. With Stiles out of the way, Derek could focus on Peter. 

"Come on!" Kate roared, stepping closer to Peter. "Come on! Let's finish this!" 

Derek shared a look with John, grim determination and disgust on both of their faces, and then he faced forward and the conflict that was about to occur.

#####

There was nothing like a hunt gone sideways to get the blood pumping.

Kate grinned as she shook out the telescoping baton she'd brought to the preserve. Once she took care of the alpha, she could go after Derek and the kid. 

Chris wouldn't protest---he might not even survive. 

Hunting werewolves was dangerous business. A lot could go wrong for a hunter while he was on a job. 

The Hale Alpha roared and shoved Derek back into a tree. Kate laughed; she was closer to Derek, and his pain was so delicious that she couldn't resist adding to it. Chris was between the rabid beast and Allison. She could afford to enjoy her work. 

She struck Derek with her baton. His grunt of pain was delicious. 

God, she loved her job! 

She brought the stick down against him twice more, using sharp, short swings. The noises Derek made were quiet---too quiet for her to _really_ savour. 

Raising her arm, she fully intended to hit him again, but a shout from Chris and a scream from Allison stopped her. 

She looked up in time to see the alpha haul Allison into the burnt out husk of a house. 

_Allison._

"No!" Kate bellowed. 

Allison could not die here. She would not be taken by that rabid Hale, whoever the fuck he was. She had to survive. She had to thrive! She was supposed to be the next generation of Argent hunters; she was supposed to bring more honour to the family name than Kate ever could. 

Kate did the only thing she could think to do: she ran after them. 

When she entered the living room, she skidded to a stop at the sight of Allison, lying on the ground. She crouched down, checking for injuries---for blood---with a quick pat-down. 

"Allison, Allison, sweetheart," Kate said, trying to get her attention. "Are you hurt? Did he scratch or bite you?" 

Allison looked up at her, but she didn't say anything. Kate wanted to baby her, and let her cry out her feelings, but Kate needed to hunt and she needed Allison to suck it up and deal with their situation. She needed Allison to be an Argent. 

"Snap out of it, Ally," Kate barked. 

Allison blinked. "I'm---"

Kate watched as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She reacted to Allison's fear before it fully registered in her mind, grabbing her second gun---the one with wolfsbane bullets---and standing up in a stance for firing. 

She barely reached her full height before an arm wrapped around her torso and pulled her into a solid body as that body moved across the room. 

Since she still had the gun, she tried to land a hit with the butt of it in an attempt to throw off her captor. He took it from her effortlessly.

He clicked his tongue. "Now, now, Kate, that's hardly friendly," he said. 

"We are not friends," Kate growled. 

The Hale Alpha moves his hand from her shoulder to her throat. "We could have been," he murmured. He turned his face into hers, sniffing. "I would've given you a much better ride than young Derek." 

Kate barked out a laugh. "I like 'em young and trainable," she said. "I don't think you'd take direction very well." 

"I can for the right motivation," he purred. "But, really, Allison is much more my type… so pure, so innocent… so… breakable." 

Humour leeched out of her at the thought of that rabid monster getting his claws in Allison. She struggled against him, trying to slam her elbow back into his gut; he retaliated by taking hold of her arm and twisting it behind her back. His actions threw off her balance and forced her to arch her back and neck if she wanted to keep Allison in her line of sight. 

"She is beautiful, Kate," he crooned. "She looks like you. Probably not as damaged, but I can take care of that in your absence." 

Kate grunted and tried, unsuccessfully, to jerk free. 

"So, I'm going to give you a chance to save her," the Hale Alpha said. "Apologise. Say that you're sorry for decimating my family, for leaving me burned and broken for six years---"

It was _Peter_. God, it took six years for him to heal, but he did it. She should have come back sooner and killed him while he was unconscious. 

"---say it, and I'll let her live." 

It killed her to have to even pretend to apologise to a werewolf, but for Allison, she would do it. She'd do anything for Allison, her beautiful niece and the future of their family. 

She sucked in a little breath and said, "I'm sorry."

Peter hissed. "I don't know about you, Allison, but that apology… didn't sound very sincere." 

Kate looked at Allison, show as watching them with wide eyes. She saw Allison flinch; she felt the hand around her neck slip away, leaving icy trails in the wake of its fingers. Allison was crying; Kate didn't understand why Allison was crying until she fell and felt the heat running from her neck. 

She'd conquered Beacon Hills once, but that didn't seem to matter. The monsters won in the end. 

"Allison! Allison!" 

Scott's voice and Allison's sobbing was the last thing she heard before the darkness swallowed her.

#####

It was madness.

John didn't know where to look or what to do. He helped Chris protect Allison and Scott for a few minutes, and then he saw Kate go after Derek and he almost moved towards them, but then Allison was rushing forward and then she was grabbed, and Chris and Scott became irrational liabilities. With Kate rushing off after Peter, John stepped up to give Derek a hand as he struggled to his feet. 

"Are you---"

"Where's Stiles?" Derek asked. 

John pointed to the truck. He could just make out Stiles at the side of the vehicle, but he couldn't tell what he was doing in the shadows. Derek turned his head; his eyes flashed blue as he stared at Stiles. 

"He's putting gas into a beer bottle," Derek whispered. "Why?" 

Assuming Stiles was trying to make some sort of weapon---and John couldn't decide if he was more afraid or proud---John snorted and shook his head. He wanted to say something, but Allison shrieked and Scott took off for the house and everything seemed to ramp back up in terms of speed and insanity. 

Peter burst out of the house, shifting into some sort of grotesque monster on his way through the air. John wanted to curse, but he couldn't catch his breath. After seeing Stiles and Derek after shifting, he'd expected something similar for Peter. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Peter's actual transformation. 

Derek growled; Peter roared in response. 

John waited where he stood, as Derek and Peter circled each other, hoping that remaining still would allow him to pass Peter's notice. He was human and he wasn't an experienced hunter; he needed time and the element of surprise if he were to be useful in their fight. 

Across the clearing, Chris wasn't waiting or hiding. John understood; he could see Allison and Scott in the doorway. Scott had his gun---although John had doubts about his ability to shoot, about the fact that he had a firearm at all---and Allison had her bow, but they should not be involved. 

Kate didn't exit the house behind them. After catching sight of tears on Allison's cheeks, John understood. She was either seriously injured or dead. 

He wished he could have arrested Kate and hauled her to a cell, but he was relieved that she could no longer hurt his son. 

When Peter took a swipe at Derek, Derek feinted and used the movement to stab his claws into Peter's side. His reward was being tossed across the yard, into the steps of the house. Peter snarled and stalked after him. 

Chris raised a firearm and shot several rounds into Peter. He roared; Chris didn't so much as flinch. He continued firing, sometimes hitting his mark and sometimes missing it, up until Peter jumped at him and shoved him back into the trunk of a tree. 

Derek was on his feet again. Chris wasn't moving. Peter was distracted. 

John kept his gun in his hand and moved to where his son was hiding. 

"Stiles---"

"I just need an opening," he whispered. He held up a lighter in one hand and a beer bottle with a scrap of some sort of fabric in the other. Liquid sloshed inside the bottle when it moved. "This will work." 

John wasn't sure about that---he'd seen some lame attempts at improvised explosives before, and the accidents never hit their mark---but he didn't have time to vocalise his doubts. Derek skidded across the yard, Peter was alone, and Stiles was already moving closer and fiddling with the lighter. 

He stopped and adjusted his stance, raising his arm. When he threw the bottle, with its lit wick, it arced beautifully…

...straight into Peter's clawed hand. 

"Allison! Now!"

She moved so fast, John barely blinked before she'd aimed and loosed an arrow at the glass bottle. 

It shattered. The flames increased in size, travelling over Peter's arm and torso with a _whooosh!_ in the air and a panicked whine from Peter's throat. 

Peter flailed, accelerating the flames' growth, and he stumbled away from Derek. John winced as he fell down into a pile of leaves. He wouldn't wish that on anyone; fire was unforgiving, as Peter had already learned. 

Allison and Scott raced to Chris, who was pulling himself up into a somewhat standing position. 

"Decide now, Hale, before I think better of this and finish him myself," Chris growled. 

From his position on the ground, Peter watched as Derek approached him. 

"You've… already… decided," Peter croaked. 

Derek nodded. 

Peter hissed and tried to sit. His arm wouldn't support him; he fell back. "I can smell it on you," he said. He growled. "Do it!" 

"You shouldn't have killed Laura," Derek growled back. 

John winced as Derek's claws ripped out Peter's throat. 

Peter's body sagged into the ground. Throwing his head back, Derek howled into the night air and Stiles answered the call as he walked closer to Derek. When they were close enough for contact, Derek put his hand on Stiles' shoulder. 

"How do you feel?" Stiles asked. 

Derek's eyes flashed red, brilliant in the near-complete darkness around them. 

"I'm the alpha now," Derek growled.

John watched Stiles for any sign of discomfort or disappointment. Instead of those signs, Stiles smiled a small, tired smile and hugged Derek. They did the scenting thing that John was used to seeing them do, sniffing each other and rubbing heads against shoulders. When it was all over, they stepped back from each other and looked around at everyone. 

For a long moment, no one said or did anything. Then, Allison started crying again, and Scott and Chris jumped into comforting her. John wanted to reach for Stiles, but he was already moving into the house. 

John cursed and followed him. 

He heard Stiles before he saw him. What he did see, upon entering the room, made him pause. Fully shifted, Stiles was kicking and screaming at Kate. He made sense in the beginning---"Fuck you, cutie pie!" and "I'm not the monster, you're the monster!"---but his words devolved into loud, gasping sobs by the time John could put his hands on Stiles' shoulders.

"Easy, son, easy," John murmured. 

He slowly guided Stiles into him and wrapped him up in a hug. He whispered comforting words and made soothing, sympathetic sounds as Stiles cried in his arms. 

"I got you," John whispered. 

"She… she…" 

John closed his eyes as Stiles burst into tears again. He hated that his son had to carry those scars---that he had to know what it was like to be tortured and abused. 

"I am going to be here for you, day and night," he promised. "Whatever you need. She does not win, Mischief. No matter how long it takes, you will get better." 

Stiles shuddered and buried his face in John's shoulder. He nodded. John cradled the back of Stiles' head and held him close. 

_God,_ he'd been so afraid he would lose his son. Holding him again was the absolute best feeling in the world. 

When Scott screamed, their moment was interrupted. Stiles hurried outside, and John followed in time to see Scott march up to Stiles and shove him. 

"Hey, hey," John said as he stepped between them. "What's going on?" 

Scott unclenched his jaw and pointed at Stiles. "His alpha took my mom," he stated. 

"Derek?" John asked. 

"No, the other one!" 

John inhaled slowly. He'd forgotten about Jackson's statement, mentioning something about Melissa being taken. Without proof, he'd had to set that information aside so he could focus on Lydia's attack and finding Stiles. It was time to revisit that information. 

"Peter was never my alpha," Stiles muttered. 

Derek walked towards them, Allison and Chris behind him. "We'll look for her," he said. "She was in his car?" 

Scott nodded. 

Derek looked left and right. Then he pointed in the direction from where John and Chris had started their journey to the house. 

"The back road is that way," he said. 

Chris nodded. "Allison, Scott, and I can go that way," he offered. "The Sheriff and I parked on that road. Makes sense Peter did, too. We'll get some clean-up and first aid supplies while we're at it." 

"Thanks," John said. He looked to Derek. "Guess that means we're going the other way?" 

"Yeah. There are a couple paths… they're overgrown now, but we should check," Derek said. "Stiles and I can run faster and cover more ground." 

"Sounds good," Chris said, surprising John with how agreeable he was acting. "Shout or call if you find her. We'll do the same." 

As soon as Team Hunter disappeared, Derek motioned them towards the truck that Stiles had scavenged for his weapon. Stiles seemed fine with the cover story, but Derek was moving with purpose; he seemed like he knew exactly where he was going. 

Derek confirmed John's suspicion when they hit another very clear dirt path that started after a pile of bushes. 

"An old escape path," Derek explained. "Peter used it a lot to come and go as he pleased. There's a carriage house where he used to park his cars."

"Is this wise?" John asked. 

Derek shrugged as he kept moving. "Maybe not, but Peter wanted a pack. I'm not sure Melissa's still human---and I don't want Argent or Scott discovering that possibility before us." 

"That… would not be good," Stiles agreed. 

John frowned. "What if she's…" 

"Then, we help her," Derek said. 

Nodding, John followed along and mulled over everything that would have to happen in the next hour. Kate would have to become the victim of a mountain lion attack; he would have to lie, which he hated, and he would have to say he and Derek found Stiles and got him away from Kate, who was attacked while John tried to convince her to relinquish her weapon. Peter would have to be hidden---and John hated that more. It had to happen, though; there was no way to explain how a comatose man killed several people and ended up in the woods, burned to a crisp. 

They'd also need to contact his deputies, to process the place where Stiles was held. Stiles would need to be processed, too, even though he'd be mostly healed by the time anyone arrived. Statements from everyone would need to be taken, too, although John had no idea what any of them would be able to say about the situation. It was a mess. 

John shook himself from his thoughts when the carriage house came into view. He looked to Derek and Stiles and saw them share a nod. 

"She's in there?" John asked. 

Derek nodded again. 

"Alive?" 

"Can hear her heartbeat," Stiles said, his voice strangled by an emotion John couldn't identify. 

"What is it?" John asked. 

Stiles shook his head as he and Derek moved more quickly towards the structure. John watched them for a moment, trying to figure out what they heard and how they interpreted it. By the time they were inside, John still hadn't deciphered their mood, but he decided to hurry his pace and join them. 

When he entered the carriage house, he saw a couple old motorcycles, damaged and covered in spray paint and cobwebs. A car was next to them; Derek had already opened the trunk and Stiles was helping Melissa into a sitting position. John exhaled a low sigh of relief; even if Stiles and Derek still looked tense, Melissa was alive and conscious and that was good news. The knot of tension in his gut relaxed a little bit more. 

"It's okay, it's okay," Stiles said. "I know some weird---"

"You're okay! God, Stiles… what about Scott?" Melissa cried. "Is he---"

"He's fine," Stiles said. "Promise. We'll go find him in a minute. Dad's here… and I don't think you met Derek? Hale? He's not like Peter---and Peter's dead now, anyway, so---" 

Melissa's hand shot to her side, just above her hip. John's eyes widened as he watched them interact; Derek and Stiles shared a communicative look while Melissa looked from one to the other. 

"What… what was he?" she asked. 

"Werewolf!" Stiles chirped. "Derek's our alpha. I'm one, too. Peter bit me---not Derek. And Dad knows." 

Melissa turned to look at John. He smiled and waved. "How are you?" he asked. 

"Pretty freaked out," Melissa replied. She cringed. "Werewolves?" 

John snorted. "I know. I've had to adjust my worldview a little." 

She huffed out a little laugh. She seemed tense and confused, but her sense of humour appeared to be intact. 

"So. Peter Hale---who was in a coma, last I checked---bit me," she says, turning her attention back to Derek and Stiles. They nodded. "And that makes me…" 

"A werewolf," Stiles confirmed. 

Derek crossed his arms. "There's a lot we need to talk about, but Scott is with Argent, and if we don't let them know we found you, they'll come looking---and the Argents can't know you were bitten," he said. 

"Scott probably shouldn't know, either," Stiles added. 

Melissa's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"The Argents are werewolf hunters," John said. "They're not… allies. Chris shot Stiles, Kate killed Derek's family and kidnapped Stiles---"

"But Allison is basically an angel," Stiles interrupted. "Scott's safe with her." 

John raised his eyebrows as he glared at his son. He understood Allison being torn between family and friends, but it would be a very long time before he forgave her for not coming to him and telling him where Stiles was being held captive. 

"Hey, Dad, I know, but she was the only one really concerned about me when Kate brought her and Scott by for show and tell," Stiles protested. 

Melissa gasped. When John looked at her, she'd covered her mouth with her hand. She spoke from behind her fingers. "Scott knew where you were? All this time?" she asked. 

Stiles nodded. He tried to talk, but Derek reached out and put his hand on Stiles' shoulder. 

"This isn't the time," Derek said. He turned to Melissa. "Missus McCall---"

"Melissa," she interjected.

"Melissa," he amended. "There's a lot to tell you and not a lot of time. Right now, I think it would be best if we hide what happened from your son. If you can stay calm, that would be best. You probably won't be able to change right away… but it's better to be safe. I can come by tomorrow morning? After Scott goes to school, I mean. And I can explain what will happen and answer your questions." 

"I want your phone number---for emergencies," she stipulated. "I can't… I mean, if I hurt Scott---" 

"You can learn to control yourself," Derek said. "It's not hopeless." 

Melissa nodded her head. "I… I hope so." She huffed and ran her hands over and through her hair. "God, I need a drink. These last few days… werewolves, really?"

John smiled. "They're pretty okay," he said as he walked closer to the group. 

Melissa smiled back at him, though she was still pale and unsteady; her clothes were dirty and blood-stained, but they weren't damaged. They would have to get her a clean shirt before they saw Chris and Scott. They would also have to bandage any wounds, in case they started to heal. It wouldn't keep her secret if her cuts and bruises vanished in front of everyone. 

Derek seemed to be on the same wavelength. He nudged Stiles, and tugged on his hoodie sleeves. 

"Give her your sweater," he said. "It'll cover her injuries until we can get to a first aid kit." 

Stiles frowned and looked around the interior of the garage space. John knew he was looking for a white box with a red cross on it; he doubted a family of werewolves would ever keep one. They needed to work with what they have, and do it as quickly and effectively as possible. 

After helping Stiles tug off his sweatshirt, John helped Melissa slip her arms into it. Then, he took her hand in his. They'd been side by side through gains and losses, love and heartache, and everything in between; in no reality could John abandon her in the midst of werewolf-and-hunter drama. 

She squeezed his fingers gently in response to his gesture. 

"Aha!" 

John blinked and turned in time to see Stiles emerge from the backseat, holding a small blue and white box. He grinned and hurried back to the trunk, opening the box as he shuffled closer to the group. 

"Good," Derek said. "Sheriff? Can you call Argent? They'll be heading this way soon and..." 

John sighed and pulled out his phone. Chris had given him his number---a long, long time ago, given everything that had happened recently---when he'd come into the station to sell his weapons. He'd kept it in his phone as a courtesy; Chris had done one of those fancy Bluetooth things and sent him his contact card, from one phone to another. After he learned the truth about Stiles, Derek, and the Argents, he'd resisted the impulse to delete the number, just in case he ever needed aid in the midst of a werewolf emergency.

 _"Argent,"_ Chris said. 

Holding his phone away from his ear, John squinted at its screen and pushed the speakerphone icon. 

"You're on speaker," John said. "We found Melissa." 

_"Good… that's good,"_ Chris replied. 

There was a pause, and then Scott could be heard.

_"Mom, Mom?"_

"Hey, Scott---honey, I'm okay," Melissa said. "Stiles, Derek, and the Sheriff found me." 

_"I'm so glad you're okay,"_ Scott said, a whine in his voice. _"Where are you? We'll come get you… and go home."_

"I… I'm in the woods, no trails," Melissa lied, with only a little hesitation. "I don't know how they found me. Derek says he knows how to get back to the house. We'll meet you there, okay? The Sheriff's gonna need to do his job and get our statements… all that stuff. Just sit tight, Scott. I'll see you soon." 

_"But, Mom---"_

Melissa frowned. "We'll see each other faster this way. I don't want to lose you in the woods.You hear me?" 

Everyone could hear Scott's sigh---supernatural senses were unnecessary in detecting his displeasure with the situation. 

_"Yeah… okay. I love you, Mom."_

Melissa's frown melted into a small smile. "I love you, too," she said. "See you in a few minutes." 

John ended the call. He knew he would have to make some sort of arrangements with Chris---and that bothered him a lot, the lawlessness of the situation---but he wanted to wait to do that in person. Their first priority was patching up Melissa and reuniting her with her son. 

"Okay… okay," Melissa said. "I better… bandages?" 

John pocketed his phone. "Let me help?" he suggested. He looked at Stiles and Derek. "You two check the car, see if there's anything… werewolf-y. I'm mentally preparing myself to turn Peter into another rabid mountain lion, for the sake of everyone's safety, but if the deputies get up here..."

"It's not Peter's car---smells like a woman," Derek said. "We'll wipe it down." 

"And we'll have to figure out something once everything's calmed down," John said, even though he hated the idea of obstructing the law. "I'd like to leave Melissa out of this as much as I can. Explaining her presence would mean explaining Peter---and there's no way to do that without sounding crazy, or casting reasonable doubt on who's responsible for the fire."

Derek nodded, before nudging Stiles into action. As they started working on the interior of the car, John turned his attention to Melissa and the first aid kit. 

"It looks new," she said. "Should have everything we need." 

"All right. Just talk me through it all," he said. 

She smiled and started to do just that. It wasn't entirely necessary---he was trained in basic first aid, it was a requirement for his job---but he wanted to keep her engaged and talking to stave off any shock for as long as possible. So, he played a little dumb as he cleaned and bandaged her wounds under her direction, and he made sure to keep their conversation away from the subject of werewolves, hunters, and other monsters. 

By the time they were finished, Stiles and Derek seemed to be wrapping up their cursory cleaning of the car's interior. John wanted to yawn and wipe his eyes; everyone looked tired and they still had at least a few hours of effort ahead of them. 

"All set?" John asked. 

Derek nodded. Stiles shrugged. Melissa pushed herself off the edge of the trunk. 

With that resounding display of agreement, the four of them left the carriage house and headed back to the site of the night's disaster.

#####

The news articles were difficult to read. Allison knew Kate as the fun aunt, almost as if she were an older sister; she associated Kate with day trips to the beach, makeovers, and huge ice cream sundaes to go with gossip and chick flicks. But, the more she read, the more she realised she never knew the real Kate Argent. What she did to the Hales… the Lindons and the Rodericks... and she knew there were probably more. Kate travelled all around the world; it couldn't all have been for their family's cover company.

And what Derek and Stiles endured… 

How could Kate hurt them so much---and enjoy it? 

How could she have trusted Kate? She let Kate convince her that they were just going to hold Stiles and Derek to catch the bad guy---the bad guy who was killing the people who helped Kate kill the Hale family. She wouldn't have shot Stiles, like Scott had done, but she did shoot Derek; he was important to Stiles, and she'd listened to Kate anyway… thinking maybe Kate wasn't as bad, or could be redeemed, and she'd been wrong. 

Allison didn't know how she could ever make things right with Stiles. Derek would never trust an Argent again, she suspected, and they didn't exactly know each other before or after to have some sort of foundation between them. But, Stiles… Stiles could be a good friend. He was Scott's family, even if Scott refused to acknowledge that anymore, and he'd saved all their lives at the school. 

Her mother told her she'd have to keep her distance from Stiles. It wouldn't look good, apparently. Allison didn't care about optics; she knew she had to make reparations. Stiles might need time, and Allison could respect that. She still needed to extend herself and try. 

If everyone's goals were similar, if the important thing for all of them was to keep Beacon Hills safe, then Allison was starting to think they needed to work together. It wasn't working with them on separate teams. Her parents wouldn't agree to an alliance of any kind---she didn't even have to ask them, she just knew---but she could make that step and reach out to Derek and Stiles. 

Maybe… maybe it would be a start. 

She hoped to convince Scott to help her, but their conversations lately had become… difficult. 

Scott was so angry! 

She missed the guy with the puppy dog eyes and easygoing attitude. She missed his steady, calm presence at her side. Lately, all he did was rant about how Melissa was upset with him for abandoning and betraying Stiles and for taking up with Kate. He was furious on her family's behalf for how Kate's reputation was tarnished. He seemed less concerned for the damage Kate had left in her wake, and Allison couldn't reconcile that with the boy who had stolen her heart. 

Allison didn't know what to think or do. She just knew she had to do something---to apologise to Stiles, to help Scott see reason, and to make peace in Beacon Hills. 

But, she was only one person and she was still a teenager. 

It would start with a text, she decided, after hearing her parents talking about people who would come in two days, the day of the funeral, in ominous tones of voice. 

_Stiles, I'm so sorry. I want to make things right. I don't know what's going to happen, but Mum called for people. They're coming in 2 days. Could be funeral. Sounds like something else. I promise to keep you posted. -Allison._

Three minutes later, her phone started buzzing. Stiles was calling her. 

"Hey," she said, as she eased off her bed and walked across her room to close the door. "Stiles---"

 _"I don't blame you,"_ he interrupted. _"Allison, I could tell you were upset and I know how hard it can be to stand against family. I get that. They're your people. I never_ really _expected you to go against them."_

Allison sat back down on her bed as her eyes filled with tears. "I'm so so _so_ sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't believe… my family… Stiles." 

_"Look, it wasn't the most enjoyable experience and I'll need therapy for a while, but I'm alive and you're alive and Scott is, too,"_ he said. He sighed. _"I'm sorry about your aunt, Allison."_

"How can you say that?" she asked. 

Stiles replied, _"She loved you. And you loved the version of her that she showed you. You're allowed to grieve that loss. It doesn't make you a bad person."_

Sniffling, Allison closed her eyes and bowed her head. "Thank you," she breathed. 

_"Family can be complicated,"_ he added. 

His comment startled a wet laugh out of her. "Stiles…" 

_"Scott---a guy who's been my brother for as long as I can remember---pretty much wants me dead,"_ he said. _"I get it."_

At the mention of Scott, Allison sighed. "I'm trying to get him to see reason. He's pretty angry," she said. "I guess his mom was disappointed with him." 

_"Melissa's good people,"_ he murmured. 

"Yeah," Allison agreed. She cleared her throat. "So, um, I know Derek won't… I mean, how can he trust me? Obviously. But. I think… I think I'd like to help. Help keep Beacon Hills safe. And, my family… what if their tactics are wrong? I mean… what if we should be working together?" 

_"Huh,"_ he said. _"You might be into something there."_

"Even if all we do is exchange information---"

 _"Never anything we're uncomfortable disclosing, or anything we think would put our separate groups in danger,"_ he stipulated. 

"Of course. No pack secrets, no hunter organisation secrets if I ever learn any. But, if we---you and I---try to keep a line of communication open?" Allison suggested. "At first? And then we can see how that goes." 

Stiles hummed as he contemplated her suggestion. Then, he said, _"Yeah… yeah. Let's try it. Could be something good to come out of this."_

"You think?" 

_"I do,"_ he said. _"I don't know if you can convince Scott to participate, but---"_

"I'm not giving up on him yet," Allison interjected. "But, you're right. It's too soon for him. For now, just us."

_"Team Sneaky-Sneak. Or Team Sneakers!"_

Allison smiled. "I think you should let me name the team," she joked. 

_"What's wrong with Sneakers? It sounds like we're both on the cross-country running team,"_ Stiles said. 

"Are you?" she asked. 

_"Well… no, not yet,"_ he admitted. _"But, I'm thinking about joining. Instead of lacrosse, if Coach will let me switch. You should join, too, because then we'd have a legitimate reason to interact at least one or two times a week."_

"Really?"

_"Yeah, really."_

"You won't hate seeing me?" Allison asked. 

_"You didn't hurt me,"_ Stiles replied. 

"Stiles…" 

He exhaled slowly in her ear. It wasn't a sound of sadness or frustration, as far as she could tell; it sounded like he was just taking a moment to gather his thoughts. 

_"You didn't hurt me… you didn't tie me up and shock me and… and the other stuff. Yes, it hurt that you and Scott left me hanging---but, Allison, she's your family,"_ he said. _" I can be super vindictive and I can hold seething grudges. I know will be pissed at Scott for a long time. He's supposed to be _my_ family. You only just figured out what _your_ family really does. Now that I'm not, like, in the middle of it, I get how insane a position you were in._

 _"What matters to me right now? You reached out. And actions going forward matter, for both of us, too,"_ he continued. _"So, we'll try this communication thing, work on our issues, try to keep Beacon Hills safe, and... see how we get along."_

Allison didn't bother wiping the tears from her cheeks that had fallen as Stiles spoke. "You're a pretty good person, Stiles," she murmured. "For a werewolf." 

Stiles snorted in her ear. _"Well, right back atcha, but for hunter spawn."_

She huffed a sound that might have been a laugh if she weren't still crying a little bit. 

_"Any news on Lydia?"_ Stiles asked. 

"Uh… no, no change, the last time I went to visit," Allison said. She finally wiped the tears from her face. "Her wounds are healing… but she's still unconscious. Dad said the bite either turns or kills you. Do you think…?" 

_"Derek said it's pretty obvious when the bite's rejected. He painted a gross picture,"_ Stiles said. _"I stopped by, and she didn't… she didn't even smell different."_

"You can smell werewolves?" Allison asked. 

_"Ehh… it's not an exact science. Sort of."_

"That's pretty cool." 

Stiles chuckled. _"One of the perks of getting a little furry and being in danger all the time,"_ he said. _"Except… school smells really gross. All the feelings and stress and rotting lunches in lockers."_

"Oh, god," Allison groaned. "What do you do?"

 _"I try really hard to ignore it all. And go outside when I can,"_ he replied. _"There's no magic dial in the brain to turn it down."_

As a question popped up in the mind, Allison bit her lip. Could she ask? Should she ask? 

Did she want the answer? 

_"You smell like jasmine and cool damp earth when you don't have wolfsbane or gunpowder on your skin. It's nice."_

"I do? How---"

 _"We're psychic, too,"_ Stiles said. 

Allison frowned. She didn't remember that from any of the very few lessons she'd had since learning the truth about the world. 

"You are not." 

Stiles cackled. It was an amazing sound---because he was enjoying himself so much while talking with her and because he could laugh after everything that happened. She smiled and curled around one of her pillows. 

_"No, I'm not. But, it is what someone else asked me when they learned the truth."_

She chuckled. She wasn't going to ask who else knew about Stiles; that seemed like a pack secret, and she guessed she'd have to wait for Stiles to reveal that information to her. She could also guess that it was someone who was close to Stiles. It could be Erica or Boyd, since they'd been spending a lot of time together, or it could be the Sheriff. Stiles trusted them; she accepted that there might be others in the secret circle. 

"What do other people smell like?" she asked. "If I'm allowed to know?" 

_"Lydia usually smells like… it's like the air when we get a cold snap, but also some sort of light perfume,"_ he said. _"Jackson is mostly fancy cologne. It covers a lot up. Scott… he used to smell like sunshine and the spices his mom uses to make hot chocolate. Now, it's changing. Kind of like burnt toast."_

Allison frowned. "Because he's angry?" 

_"Yeah… maybe."_

"He might come around," she offered. "I can try to---"

 _"No, no, no, don't push him. He can be so stubborn when he thinks he's right, you have no idea,"_ Stiles interrupted. _"Usually, it's not a big deal. But… I mean, when he's sure he's right, even when he's wrong, he will stick with it unless he comes to the right answer or reaction on his own. Pushing him just makes him dig in."_

Allison sighed. "How… he saw you up there, and---"

 _"He's mad because I lied to him, and he blames Derek for making me different,"_ he explained. 

"But Derek couldn't have bitten you." 

It was Stiles' turn to sigh. _"No, that was Peter,"_ he confirmed. 

"I don't know what to do," Allison admitted. 

_"Look out for him. And be patient with him,"_ Stiles said. _"God, Allison, he fell for you so hard… it's like love at first sight. And I'm not saying that to force you into something you don't want. But, if you still see_ him _in there, please try not giving up on him."_

"You still love him," Allison murmured. 

_"We're brothers, even if he thinks I'm a monster,"_ Stiles said. 

"He's not a lost cause yet," she said. 

_"No, he's not,"_ Stiles agreed. _"I want to be there for him, but it's not safe for me… and I can't even look at him right now, to be honest."_

"Is there… anything I need to know?" she asked. 

After a long pause, Stiles answered her question in a way that gave her more questions than answers. 

_"Be careful of Deaton, okay? I don't think he and Scott have revealed to each other that they're in the know, but Deaton… he knows stuff,"_ Stiles said. _"I don't know if he's good or bad, but… he never answers a question in a straight way. And he says stuff about maintaining balance that makes me nervous."_

"The vet?" Allison asked. "Is he a hunter?"

 _"I don't think so? I mean, he's got mountain ash built into his clinic, but I haven't seen weapons---and he hasn't tried to kill me yet,"_ he replied. 

Allison huffed. "That's your hunter detector?" 

_"Well. So far, between Kate and your dad…"_

"What did Dad do to you?"

 _"He, uh, shot me with an arrow on my first full moon run with Derek,"_ Stiles admitted. 

"What?! Were you attacking him or even growling or---"

 _"No, actually. Derek and I were just playing a pretty extreme game of tag when his little hunting party started firing,"_ Stiles interrupted. 

Allison closed her eyes and sighed. How could she be the daughter of people who shoot and kill other people? 

She wasn't an idiot. She understood werewolves could be dangerous---Peter Hale certainly made that point---and she knew hunters were only human and needed an advantage when hunting dangerous targets, but her father hadn't known the second beta was Stiles until the night Kate was killed. Despite not knowing who the werewolf was, despite not knowing if the werewolf had hurt anyone, her father had still fired on him. 

And her mother… 

Well, her mother seemed angry when Chris said the other two werewolves were still alive. 

After everything the Argents had done to the Hales, her mother still wanted to kill Derek---just because he existed. And she felt the same about Stiles, even though he was Allison's age and in her classes. 

She struggled to reconcile her parents' revealed identities with the ones she'd assumed were real for as long as she could remember. 

"How is this my life?" 

Stiles snorted. _"I've been thinking that at least once a day since Peter bit me,"_ he said, his voice a little dry. 

"At least your family isn't…" she trailed off because she couldn't finish the sentence. 

_"We're going to figure out a way to make this work… to make it good here, again,"_ he said, reminding her of their deal. _"Maybe if they see it working, they'll give it a chance."_

Allison hoped he was right. She couldn't be a party to any more events like the one she'd survived at the ruins of Kate's actions.

#####

"I don't think it's a good idea for me to rent."

Stiles finished pouring the chocolate chips into the batter, handed the mixing spoon to Erica, and turned his attention to the table where Danny and Derek were looking over the former's laptop. 

"You need to live somewhere, dude," he said. 

"Not where innocent people can get stuck in the crossfire," Derek insisted. "And don't call me 'dude.'" 

Danny sighed. "Okay, but you need a place. With Jackson and Melissa being bitten by Peter, you're on your way to forming a pack," he said. "So give me some parameters." 

"Are there any empty apartment buildings for sale? Or anything that could be refitted into apartments," Derek suggested. "I'm… I'm thinking I'd eventually like to try to buy back my family's land, but refurbishing a building would be a good start." 

Stiles smiled and squeezed Derek's shoulder. He knew they weren't out of the woods---there would probably be repercussions from Kate's death, from within or without the Argent family---and they still had a lot to figure out between Jackson and Melissa, and everyone else, but he was proud of the way Derek was trying to think about the future. 

Danny smiled, too. "I think I've got something that'll work," he said. "A bit of a fixer-upper, but---"

"That'll be good," Derek interjected. "I need something to do during the day."

"And it could be a way for you to integrate yourself into society," Stiles added. "Go buy supplies, hire people… you're supporting local business, getting people in your corner that way." 

Derek turned his head and looked up at him. "Do I need people in my corner?" 

"Duuu---Derek, you need people to see you as a real person," he said. "Right now, you're mysterious. Mystery makes nosy people suspicious. You need less suspicion---especially if you're going to be hanging out with Melissa sometimes." 

Melissa hadn't yet declared herself as pack. They were sure she will shift on the next full moon, and she'd been over at the house to talk with Derek, as well as with Stiles and John, several times over the last few days. Once she learned how complicated it all was, between the werewolves, Argents, and Scott, she said she needed some time. She promised to meet up with them for her first full moon; she promised she'd seriously consider joining the pack. Derek wanted a pack, for strength as much as for stability, but he couldn't force anyone to join him so he'd had to respect that she asked to weigh her options.

Jackson was another difficult situation. With Lydia still in the hospital, he made himself scarce. Stiles and Derek approached him together, on one of the first days Stiles felt like he could leave the house, and Jackson had been pretty combative and insulting. His insults aimed at Stiles---about how he clearly hadn't been in any real danger---upset Derek, and when Derek was upset he acted violently. Stiles had been forced to get between them. 

He didn't smell like Melissa did---like family, like pack---but he did smell like something _else_. Stiles assumed he was going to turn with the next full moon; he wasn't sure how he felt about that. 

Derek told Stiles if Jackson were a werewolf, they needed to make sure he could control himself because a werewolf who couldn't achieve control was just as dangerous as a rabid werewolf. They'd cause devastation and give a reason for the Argents to resume hunting all known werewolves in Beacon Hills. Stiles could understand that, but he didn't want Jackson to be a part of his pack. Pack was supposed to be family---and Jackson was _not_ family. 

Before anyone could respond to what Stiles said, John and Boyd entered the kitchen. 

"Boyd here has an idea, and I want him to run it by you," John said. "I'm not an expert, so I figure he should put it to the people who might have a clue." 

Stiles smiled as he gestured to Danny and Derek. "Pester them, I'm gonna make cookies," he declared. 

Derek put his hand out, snagging Stiles' wrist in a gentle hold before he could move away from the table.

"Stay and listen," he insisted. 

"All right, Boyd, take it away."

Boyd's shoulders were tense. Stiles wondered if it were bad news or nerves; Boyd always seemed so chill and relaxed, content to sit back and observe before taking action. Seeing him display anything other than calm was strange. 

"So… mountain ash. Werewolves can't touch it?" Boyd asked. "Can't move it?" 

Derek shook his head. "No, we can't. If it's ground up or solid… it can repel or block us," he replied. 

"But, it's not magic? I mean, both Danny and Sheriff Stilinski can spread it in a circle?" Boyd continued. 

They were keeping Danny's heritage a secret. As far as Boyd and Erica knew, he was aware of the supernatural; that may change in the future, but Derek wanted to keep Danny's exposure to a minimum, with Deaton and the Argents in Beacon Hills, and Stiles agreed.

Danny nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes people with magic abilities can use it… can make it move without touching it, or can spread it in a way that wouldn't be possible," he answered. "But hunters use it all the time---they're mostly all mundane and it works for them."

"If a baseball bat was made of it, could I pick it up?" Stiles asked. 

Danny snorted. "Maybe? I don't know. It might just knock you back." 

Stiles made a mental note to test that theory at some point---in a room full of pillows, if he could arrange it. 

Derek cleared his throat. "What are you thinking, Boyd?" 

"What if you built an underground border… put the ash in a sealed circuit of pipes? You could build a radio-controller switch and close the gate, all under ground," he said. "Might be useful for specific houses or properties? If you guys can work the switch?"

Stiles tried to picture it. It would take a lot of work and planning, but he liked the idea; it could make it possible for he and Derek to protect themselves or their future pack if someone _else_ were after them. 

It wouldn't save them from hunters; it could save them from another rabid situation, though. 

When he looked at Derek, he, too, seemed to be pondering it. His brow was furrowed and his lips were pressed together; his body was relaxed, though, so he didn't seem angry. He shared a look with Danny, who shrugged, and then he turned back to Boyd. 

"I only know I can't touch or use the wood," Derek said. "And my knowledge of all things electrical and mechanical is limited. Is this something you know how to do?"

Boyd's left shoulder hitched up for a brief moment. "It wouldn't be hard. Tricky if it's underground, but I think I can figure it out." 

"Draw up plans, and I'll pay for materials for prototypes," Derek said. "We can dig out in the preserve if you want to test it underground." 

Stiles grinned at Boyd, patted Derek's shoulder, and returned to Erica to help her put the dough onto baking sheets. He leaned into her a little and passed her a spoon; she leaned back into him as she plucked it from his fingers. She'd been clingy since Stiles returned to safety; he didn't hate it because he felt clingy, too. Her presence, and that of the rest of the people he liked and was learning to trust, reminded him that he _was_ safe and out of Kate's clutches. 

They were building a pack at the same time as Stiles was trying to heal. It helped, knowing they were coming together around him. Danny would probably be their emissary; Stiles was waiting for Derek to ask him, officially, but Danny had been at the house more than Melissa in the last couple of days, lending his support wherever he could. Stiles also guessed Derek would offer the bite to Boyd and Erica; he had already mentioned that their loyalty to Stiles had been touching, and Stiles sensed that Derek was learning to accept their presence in the house. 

He wasn't sure how Derek felt about Allison's offer to communicate and help where she could. Truthfully, Stiles wasn't one hundred percent sure their efforts would work; he knew it depended on both him and Allison being as honest as they were allowed to be. Derek made Stiles promise that he wouldn't give away too many details about werewolf biology---because even though hunters in the past had been known to conduct experiments on their targets, he wasn't comfortable with Allison receiving accurate information from them---but he did concede that she could be helpful if another crisis struck Beacon Hills. 

The one person they were both sure could not be trusted was Scott. Stiles could admit that if Scott changed his attitude, he'd be willing to reevaluate his opinion; Derek, though, was steadfast in his belief that Scott was the enemy and would remain the enemy. Stiles hoped Derek would be proven wrong---but he wasn't going to hold his breath. 

In a week, he would have to go back to school, and Stiles wasn't sure how he was going to cope with seeing Scott. 

Stiles didn't think he could forgive Scott any time soon---and he hated that. 

One more thing to discuss with Doctor Mahealani at his next appointment. 

When Stiles and Erica had scooped the cookie dough onto all the baking sheets and put two sheets into the oven, Stiles started wiping down the counters. In response to his actions, Erica began to fill the kitchen sink with hot and soapy water. Boyd joined her at the sink and they worked together to wash the dishes. Stiles smiled as he watched them; he liked the way their pack was continuing to form. 

Derek's phone rang. Stiles turned to look at him as he stood up and answered the call. As soon as he heard Derek say "Hey Jeremy" from the living room, he relaxed and walked over to Danny and his dad. 

Danny didn't expect him to say anything---which was good, because Stiles didn't know what to say. He wasn't uncomfortable, but he just didn't have as many words in his head as he usually did. Doctor Mahealani said that was considered normal, after a trauma, and he also suggested it might change---or it might not change. Stiles was different---not damaged, just different---and he would have to learn how to achieve an equilibrium again. 

When Stiles smiled, Danny leaned closer so their shoulders touched. 

"Any plans tonight?" Danny asked. 

"Binging on cookies and ice cream, and clearing a couple movies from my Netflix queue," Stiles said. 

Danny snorted. "So, if I suggest a run?" 

"Mmm… I don't know," he replied. 

He missed running. With Peter dead and buried, he could run in the woods again. He craved nature; he longed to run through the trees. But, he also knew there were still hunters in town---and hunters were dangerous. 

Both Derek and Doctor Mahealani wanted him to run again. John, too, thought going outside would be good for him. Stiles wasn't sure how he felt about that. 

"What if Derek comes with us?" Danny asked. 

"Maybe?"

Danny leaned a little more into him before easing back out of Stiles' personal space. "Just think about it, okay?" he suggested. "Even if you want to go early in the morning some day, any day, I'm game." 

Stiles bowed his head and nodded. "Thanks, Danny," he murmured. "Maybe before my first day back?"

He nodded. "Definitely. We'll make a plan," he agreed. "You still planning on switching to cross-country?" 

"If Coach'll let me, yeah," Stiles replied. "I can't… with Scott…" 

"Jackson, too, I guess?" Danny said. 

Stiles looked up and shrugged. "A little bit? Yeah. If he ends up being a werewolf, I don't know what I'm going to do," he admitted. "I know he's your best friend, but---"

"He acted really stupidly the last few weeks," Danny said. "I know. I tried to talk to him… but he hasn't been very receptive." 

"Will he change?" John asked, finally inserting himself into their conversation. 

Stiles shrugged again. "Dunno. He doesn't smell like Melissa does… but he doesn't smell… normal." 

"He hasn't shown any signs of rejecting the bite yet," Danny added. "I check on him every day, just to be sure." 

"And Lydia…?" 

"Is healing human-speed slow," Stiles replied. 

"And she's showing no rejection signs yet, either," Danny said, "which is _really_ weird. I've never heard of bite immunity before." 

John frowned as he studied Danny. "What would happen if you were bitten?" 

Danny's shrugged. "I assume I'd either reject it and die, or accept it and lose… what makes me me." 

"Any historical precedence?" John asked. 

"Not that I know of, but I'll ask Dad," Danny said. "He might know of something. I know we have a lot of family journals… and I haven't read them all."

John nodded. "It would be interesting to know. If there was another case of immunity." 

Danny nodded, too. "Yeah, definitely," he said. "Hunters might have that information, but I doubt they'd be forthcoming." 

After a little snort, John agreed. "Probably not." 

The doorbell pulled Stiles' attention away from the conversation. They'd only ordered the six pizzas---because John refused to allow Stiles cook for them when they were more than three people---twenty minutes ago. Usually, a large order meant a longer wait. 

Still, Stiles stood up, grabbed the cash from the counter and headed towards the door. He wasn't going to complain about their massive order arriving ahead of schedule. 

He opened the door without using his senses to try to determine who was on the other side of it. 

He regretted that decision. 

Scott stood there, feet pointing towards each other and hands jammed in his hoodie pockets, with his head bowed slightly. He had the nerve to smile when he saw Stiles. 

"You look good," Scott said. "You healed." 

Stiles clenched his jaw. "No thanks to you," he said. "What do you want?" 

"I… I want to apologise," Scott said. "And I want to help." 

"How?" Stiles asked. 

Scott's smile faded a bit as his brow furrowed. "Well… Chris talked to me a bit, and he said some… creatures… might be able to stay good if they're constantly reminded of being human. I think I can help you with that," he replied. 

Stiles snorted. "Nice. _Chris_ compared me to a rabid dog, huh? You gonna keep me in a kennel? Let me out for good behaviour?" 

His eyes widened. "No! Of course not!" he insisted. 

"The only thing you remind me of is being terrorized by that monster Argent calls a sister," Stiles hissed. 

"Kate was just trying to keep us safe!" Scott protested. He sighed. "I mean, she didn't hurt you… too seriously, right?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Grow up, Scott. She got off on bad-touching teenagers and then torturing and killing people," he said. "You left me there so I could experience all of that. And then I got shot. With a gun. And Kate wanted you to kill me." 

"Peter took my mom…" 

"And what did I do to you, Scott?" Stiles demanded. "What could I _ever_ have done to deserve what Kate did to me?!" 

Scott shuffled his feet, but he didn't say anything. Behind him, he could hear Derek telling Jeremy he'd call him back; a moment later, he felt Derek's hand on his shoulder before Derek's body pressed into his from behind. 

"You're safe," Derek murmured. 

As Scott took in the sight of Derek behind him, his apologetic facial expression hardened into something darker. 

"What are you doing here?" Scott growled. 

"Protecting my pack," Derek replied, his voice calm, quiet, and even. "What are you doing here? Terrorizing my pack?" 

"Argent told him some _creatures_ have a chance of staying _good_ if they're reminded of being human. He wants to help keep me human," Stiles said. 

After snorting, Derek turned his head into Stiles' head for a brief inhale and nuzzle. He turned back to Scott as he wrapped his arm around Stiles' shoulders and pulled Stiles into his body. 

"Did he call you a rabid dog, too?" Derek asked. 

"That's what I said!"

Scott glowered at both of them. "I only wanna help." 

"Where were you when Kate kidnapped Stiles?" Derek asked. 

"I didn't know!" Scott exclaimed. "Stiles didn't tell me what I needed to know!" 

Stiles frowned. Scott suggested he was there to apologise, which suggested he would take some responsibility for his part in the disaster, but Stiles didn't see that happening any time soon. So far, Scott only made excuses and spread blame around---all the while insulting Stiles and Derek for being different. 

"Why are you here?" Derek asked. 

"I… want to help," Scott said. "I don't want Stiles to hurt anyone." 

"Because if he does, you'll have to tell Argent so he can kill Stiles," Derek suggested. "But, you hurt people, and you're still alive. Does that mean we get to kill you?" 

"I'm human! I don't have claws or---" 

"You have a gun," Derek interrupted. "With you. Right now. I can smell the wolfsbane." 

Stiles recoiled, pushing back into Derek's body as much as he could. Scott brought an illegal gun to his house. His mind couldn't… he couldn't… what was Scott thinking?! 

Concentrating his sense of hearing on Derek's heart, Stiles listened and tried to slow his breathing. 

Derek seemed to be fine pulling the alpha card and handling the conversation without Stiles' participation. He kept Stiles against his body, as if he were ready to pull Stiles behind him at any moment, and he remained calm and controlled as he faced Scott. 

"My family used to protect Beacon Hills until the Argents moved here and ruined everything, and we're planning on continuing that now," Derek told Scott. "If you want to actually help, we'll have to learn how to work together. Anything else will just dissolve into a war---and people we care about will be hurt." 

"But, you're…" 

"Monsters?" Derek suggested. "If I were a monster, I'd have ripped your throat out with my teeth for upsetting Stiles. And, yet… you're still here, being ignorant and belligerent and wasting our time." 

Spluttering, Scott looked from Derek to Stiles, as if he expected Stiles to take his side and defend him. Stiles couldn't look at him without remembering what it was like to be tied up in that room and at Kate's mercy; he had no idea why Scott expected that or why he had even decided to pay them a visit. 

"Did Argent tell you to come here and get me to agree to be tied up or caged?" Stiles asked. "If I say 'no,' are hunters going to show up here with assault rifles?" 

"Chris didn't send me! He told me that I might be able to help you… and then I decided to come here on my own," Scott replied. "I swear. You're my brother---" 

"That didn't seem to matter when Kate told you my secret," Stiles interrupted. 

"I was scared!" 

"And I wasn't?" Stiles asked. "God, Scott… what she did to me… I will have nightmares forever." 

"But, you look…" 

"If you say 'fine,' I will punch you in your stupid face," Stiles muttered. 

"It still hurts when we're shocked or stabbed or shot," Derek said. "Plus, not all abuse or torture is physical." 

Scott swallowed and nodded. "Stiles… I don't know what to say to fix this." 

"Right now, actions speak louder than words," Stiles said. "I haven't seen anything from you in weeks that suggests I'm at all important to you. So, for now, we're done. You stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours. If you mean it, if you want to work with us to help keep Beacon Hills safe, then… prove it." 

After looking from Stiles to Derek and back to Stiles, Scott said, "So, that's it, then? You're throwing years of friendship away?" 

"You threw it away first," Stiles said. "I can't have people around me right now who I can't trust." 

Scott's brow furrowed into a scowl as his gaze shifted back to Derek. "This is all your fault," he hissed, before he turned and stomped to his bike that was leaning against Stiles' jeep. 

As soon as Scott pedaled out of sight, Stiles' legs seemed to turn into jelly and he sagged back into Derek. Derek reacted by tightening his hold on Stiles as he moved to shut the door. 

Stiles turned in his arms and gripped Derek's shirt in his hands as he inhaled a long and shaky breath. 

"Easy… easy," Derek whispered. "He's gone. You're safe." 

"He's…" 

"Crazy?" Derek suggested. 

Stiles snorted. Derek rubbed his hands up and down Stiles' back. 

"I'm definitely not excusing what he said or did---at any time, recently---but his worldview is changing and he's trying to make sense of it," Derek said quietly. "He made a big step today---to him---by coming here and offering to help. It's not the right step, but maybe… maybe he'll get there." 

"That therapy thing's really working for you," Stiles murmured. 

Derek chuckled as he continued to physically soothe Stiles through contact, but he didn't say anything about his communication skills. Stiles didn't expect him to talk about that; he was still a quiet soul, speaking the most when it was important, and Stiles didn't need him to change. He said what he needed to say and he spoke to Scott when Stiles couldn't. That mattered more than Derek turning into a chatterbox. 

"Thanks, for that," he said. "I… I was… struggling." 

"I have no doubt you could have handled it yourself," Derek replied. "You don't have to, though." 

"Pack." 

He nodded and squeezed the back of Stiles' neck. "Pack," he agreed.

#####

At first, there was darkness and pain and the feeling of _wrongness_ that was in her blood and bones and flesh.

Then, she saw men and women with axes, approaching a large, beautiful tree in the middle of the forest. Their faces were solemn and serious, determination written in the set of their shoulders and the steady march of their feet; apart from them, there was a taste or smell of fear in the air and she couldn't determine from where it originated. A shadowed figure spread some sort of powder in a counterclockwise circle around the base of the tree before the axes were put to use. The fear swelled into a high-pitched scream---

She was in the woods, hearing the cries of children and adults beyond the crackling and creaking of a burning house. She couldn't breathe past her feelings, grief and fear intertwined. The scream intensified---

_"I predicted this… just like I told Talia the hunters would come after us, I knew this would happen. Hunters, Derek, it doesn't matter who did it. But, I know what you are, Princess, and I'm going to use you to start over. Like a vengeful god. I will return and burn Beacon Hills to the ground!_

_"I will obliterate the weak and I will remake the supernatural in my image. We will be strong and we will rule the territory the way we are meant to rule!_

_"And you're going to be by my side, Princess. With my power, alive again, and your ties to the dead… I will be unstoppable!"_

The scream burst from her lips as she sat up in bed. She heard glass shatter; she heard alarms ringing. Everything was cold and sharp and brittle. 

And then, there was warmth. A small touch on her shoulder pulled her into herself and granted her a more external type of awareness. 

"Lydia? Honey?"

She looked up into her mother's eyes. 

"Oh, thank god," she murmured, hugging her close. "It's been days---days! I was so scared!" 

"M-mom," Lydia whispered. 

Natalie squeezed her tightly before sitting next to her on the bed. She wouldn't let go of Lydia's hand; Lydia wanted the connection. She felt like she'd dodged death, somehow, and she needed a tie to the living. 

"What happened?" Lydia asked. 

"The night of the formal… you were attacked by a mountain lion," Natalie explained. 

"I thought it was a man," Lydia mumbled. 

Natalie frowned and shook her head. "No… no. The animal attacked and killed one of the Argents, too---"

"Allison?"

"Her aunt," her mother admitted. "I know you've been through a lot, sweetheart, but you're not alone and we're going to get you through this. Together. Me, your dad, Jackson, Danny, Stiles, Allison..." 

Lydia nodded as her mother continued chatting in front of her. Stiles was alive. Allison and Jackson were alive, too. She was awake. That was good news. 

Beacon Hills was due for some good news---especially since she couldn't shake the feeling that more bad news was coming for their community. They needed to find the positives where they could, when they could; something was still itching in the back of her throat, like a shout or a scream that refused to be silenced. 

She needed to figure out what was wrong with her---and there was something wrong, she was sure about that. When she could separate drug-fueled nightmares from actual bad feelings, she needed to try to---

But, where could she look? Who could she ask? 

All she had was a sinking feeling in her gut and a scream lodged in her throat. Neither evidence was very scientific; they wouldn't be listed in a book that could actually help her. She was probably going crazy---or experiencing a symptom of her trauma.

Lydia kept her hand in Natalie's hand and her eyes on Natalie's face. Her mother was real and solid, talking excitedly but still _there_ , and that was the most important thing in that moment. 

She just had to hold it together and recover. And then, she could try to figure out the rest. If she were losing her brilliant mind, she'd figure out a way to stop that process. She'd save herself, because she was too strong and clever not to save herself. 

The bad feeling persisted, but she could do her best to ignore it until she was ready to face it.


End file.
